A Rose by Another Name
by BrookeLynnBridges
Summary: What if Belle hadn't shown Gaston the magic mirror? What if she had accepted his proposal in exchange for her father's freedom? How, if that moment had played differently, would the story change? Read the story and find out.
1. Prologue

**I have wanted to write this story for along time, I have always thought that when Belle showed Gaston the mirror it was a stupid mistake. And I always wondered how, if that moment had played differently, things might have changed. I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Please, Please, Please Review!**

 **Prologue**

Belle watched helplessly as they dragged her father away, locking him in a caged wagon like a common dog. They were taking him to the asylum.

 _Papa…_

She had heard of that place, it was a fate worse than death. The villagers' cruel laughter rang in her ears, bitingly criticizing her father's description of a horrible monster that lurked in the woods.

Her father wasn't crazy! But how to make them see? They wouldn't believe her. They would think she was just as insane as her father. They would both be riding away in that cage or worse… Maurice was a man. He had some protection under the law, even an insane man would be allowed to live. But a woman, ff the town had a mind to they could claim her a witch and have her drowned in a dunking stool, or by some other means of enlightened medieval torture.

She felt a lurking presence behind her, engulfing her in its shadow. She turned to see the broad shoulders and expansive chest of a mountain! Her eyes quickly shot up to the surprisingly concerned face of Gaston.

In her moment of panic, Belle clung to the one sympathetic figure in the crowd.

"Poor Belle, shame about your father."

"You know he's not crazy Gaston."

If anyone could help her it was Gaston, the town's people worshipped him. Surely he could convince the asylum warden to let her father go.

"I might be able to clear up this little misunderstanding, if…"

"If what?"

Anything. She would do anything to keep her Papa safe.

"If you _marry me_!"

Belle reared back in shock.

 _Marry him! Marry Gaston! He must be crazy!_

"What?"

"One little word Belle that's all it takes."

She wouldn't, she couldn't!

 _The mirror!_

Belle grasped at the first idea in her head. Of course the mirror! It could show her the beast, it could show them. Then they would see her father wasn't crazy! Gaston would see the beast and…

 _And he'll kill him…if Gaston sees the beast, he'll hunt him down and kill him._

She couldn't show him the mirror. No matter what, Gaston must never see that mirror! He would kill the beast, her friend, her…she wouldn't let that happen.

"SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!" Maurice cried.

Belle turned to see the carriage begin to move, taking her father away.

What could she do? WHAT?

"YES!" she blurted.

Gaston raised a hand, the wagon stopped rolling and everyone listened to hear what she would say.

"Yes what, Belle?" Gaston leaned down so as not to miss a word.

She took a deep breath and with all the pride she still possessed she looked him in the eyes and said.

"Yes, Gaston, I will marry you."

Time froze for a moment and then regained its pace by the sound of Gaston's deep laughter.

"I knew you would come around. YOU, bring the old man back I can't have you mistreating my father in law!"

The crowd, that only moments before had been mocking him, now turned towards Maurice with words of congratulations and neighborly acceptance. How fickle is the crowd.

Roughly shoving her from behind, Gaston shooed her up the stairs of the porch commanding her to start packing. He would be back with a priest as soon as he could rouse the old man from his sleep.

Belle watched him walk back towards the village followed by the singing crowd boasting of his unsurprising success in winning her hand.

She felt like she was in a dream, or dead. She didn't feel anything. It was as if someone else was controlling her body as she opened the door and began laying her possession on the bed, preparing to leave her home forever. She heard the soft plunk of Maurice's stockinged feet scurry to close the door and then slowly approach her.

With concern and confusion etched across his sweet childlike face, he took her hand and turned her face to his, halting her packing.

"Belle?"

It was too much for him. She looked at the sweet old man with all the love in the world. All her Papa had ever wanted was for her to be happy and to keep her safe, but he couldn't. For the first time Belle realized how helpless her father was. He lived in his own fairy world where no one meant him any harm because he meant them none. Her poor papa, how others mocked and misused his honest trust in them. From now on their roles would reverse, though he would never realize it. Belle would spend the rest of her life protecting him from the coldness of the world. Where, if he had been capable, he should have sheltered her.

She knew her smile was wooden and false, but hoped it would be enough to deceive him.

"Don't worry Papa, everything is going to be wonderful. Gaston and I will marry and you will grow old spoiling your grandchildren. I couldn't be happier."

Maurice studied her face. Apparently, a father's desire to believe in his child's happiness can blind him to a poorly concealed lie. Beaming, he scuttled up the stairs, his little legs straining to carry his rotund frame up the narrow stairway.

"D-Don't look BELLE! I have a gift for you!"

Despite the horror of the situation, she smiled at her father's excited flight.

She returned to her packing, feeling her heart drop a little more with each item. A small clicking sound distracted her from the unpleasant task at hand. Turning, she saw a forgotten little friend staring up at her.

"CHIP! I had forgotten you, oh no, no, no!"

"What's wrong Belle?" The small tea cup asked.

Kneeling she picked him up carefully in her hand. "Chip, you must go back to the castle, right now!"

"Are you coming too?"

Belle felt fresh tears in her eyes, but she blinked them away. "No Chip, but you must do as I say. If the villagers find you I am afraid what will happen, and I am sure your mother is very worried about you. You didn't tell her you were coming here, did you?"

If he had had feet Chip would have looked at them in shame. "No I didn't, but won't you please come back, your father can come too, I am sure the master wouldn't mind."

For a moment she let herself imagine how wonderful life would be, spending the rest of her life in the castle with Maurice, and the Beast. But she couldn't, Gaston would never stop looking for her. He would hunt them down, no matter the cost, and that was something she just couldn't risk.

"No Chip, but you must go." She carried him outside to the edge of the wood, setting him down in the snow and watched him disappear into the darkness. Turning, she ran back into the cottage with renewed speed. Gaston would be there any minute and there was still one thing she had to do.

As she closed the door behind her she could hear the stomping of Maurice's feet on the upstairs floor as he rummaged around for whatever it was he was searching for.

 _I have to hurry. Gaston is coming._

Running to the small table next to the bed, she retrieved the saddle bag. Inside she found it. The magic mirror he had given her. Belle slumped down on the floor by the fireplace, cradling the mirror in her arms.

This time when the tears came she didn't hold them back. Staring at the polished smooth surface, she thought of him, the Beast, and her heart broke. He was the kindest, most gentle being she had ever known. He was no monster, and he had shone her that neither was she. He had loved her for herself. Never once criticizing her love of books, or ideals. But more than that, she had seen the kind, understanding soul beneath the villainous appearance, and she loved him for it.

The tears came unbidden and uncontrollable. She couldn't even bear to ask the mirror to show him again, she just cradled it close and whispered to the one who could never hear her.

"I love you."

With those words she raised the mirror high above her head and brought it down on the hard stone hearth smashing it into a million pieces, breaking her last link to him.

 _No one must ever know. They must never find him._

Gaston could never be allowed to know the truth of Maurice's words. The great hunter would never rest until the head of the beast was mounted on his wall. No hunter, no villagers living in fear of the monstrous villain in the woods, waiting to attack. And no way for her to ever return. This was the only way to keep them all safe, all those she loved; Beast, her friends in the castle, even Papa. They must never know that it was all real, never know that she remembered.

The sound of breaking glass sent Maurice flying down the stairs. Seeing his daughter sitting in a pile of glass, he rather clumsily tried to help her stand and move away from the hazard. Gracefully, Belle rose from the destruction. Taking her Papa's large, clammy hand in her small slender one, she allowed him to lead her away from the hearth.

"Now Belle, you must be more careful!"

Looking at her face, Maurice's concerns returned. She wasn't crying anymore. She had reverted back to the living dead, but the remnants of her feelings were still apparent on her face.

"Belle, are you sure…"

"What's that Papa?"

She couldn't bear to hear his questions. If she thought about it she would scream.

Her question had been to throw him off, but once it was spoken she realized that he was holding something.

Maurice looked down with a small smile, unrolling the cloth in his hand he revealed a dress. The style and cut were clearly from a fashion long since passed, but the dove grey gown had obviously been well stored and showed no signs of wear. The old fashioned sleeves were edged with lace that was just beginning to discolor with age. It was not an expensive dress, even in the time it had been procured, but it had been none the less very special to its original owner.

"Your mother wore this when we got married, and I had always hoped you would too. When the right man came along."

 _The right man, oh Papa, if you only knew._

Finding a genuine smile, if only for a moment, Belle took the gown from her father's hands.

"Thank you Papa."

Gaston banged on the front door with a brutish energy, impatient to collect his new bride. The door opened, and out walked a beautiful young woman in a dove grey dress. Her face calm and resolved, like a beautiful wooden doll who feels nothing. He offered her his arm, and they walked down the stairs to the wedding waiting below.

 _In the Forest_

The tiny tea cup hopped through the snow. It would take hours for him to get back, maybe even longer.

 _Why wouldn't she come back?_ He thought.

 _Doesn't she like us anymore? Did we do something wrong, why did the Master let her go?_

Poor Chip struggled with the weight of his unanswered questions. With the hope of a small child, he thought that naturally everything in life turns out the way it ought to. So, when they didn't, he couldn't reconcile it to his way of thinking. And instead of realizing that sometimes things don't happen the way they should with no fault to the participants, he decided that he must have done something wrong in convincing Belle to return and it was his fault.

He continued on, saddened and confused, lost in the world of thought. He was brought back by a bright light. It was blinding, everywhere he looked all he saw was the blinding white light. It engulfed him and was oddly soothing. Chip felt as if he was floating, higher and higher far away from the cold snowy forest. Up above the world, flying through the clouds surrounded by the light.

In an instant, it was over and the light vanished. He was again in the dark forest covered in snow. But something was different…did the trees shrink?

He stared at the forest around him. What was different? Chip scratched his head in contemplation…

 _Scratched my head?_

You had to have hands to do that, and a head. DID HE HAVE HANDS?!

Chip stared in shock at the two perfect hands in front of him, THERE WERE FEET TOO!

The little boy jumped joyously up and down. His wildest dreams had finally come true! HE WAS HUMAN AGAIN!

 _Mama! I wonder if she's human too._

With an unboundable energy he ran through the forest, eager to see if the rest of his family and friends had shared in his good fortune, completely forgetting about Belle back in the village.

 _Castle_

Cogsworth ran through the castle corridor…on his new legs! Sliding to a stop in front of the large double doors of the Master's rooms, his rotund frame nearly pushing over Lumiere and Mrs. Potts.

"Eh watch it fatso."

"Lumiere not now." Mrs. Potts reprimanded.

"Where is the Master?" (Cogsworth)

"He's still in there." (Potts)

"Well why doesn't he come out?" (Lumiere)

"Now we must be patient, this is a lot to take in." (Potts)

The three continued to wait outside the door until their curiosity got the better of them. Cogsworth took the initiative (he was blackmailed) and knocked on the ancient door. When no response came, he hesitantly pushed it open and the three cautiously entered.

On the other side of the expansive room, staring out the led-pained window sat a handsome man with long red hair.

"Master?" (Cogsworth)

"Leave me."

"But Master, the spell has been broken. We are human again!" (Lumiere)

"What does it matter?"

Mrs. Potts pattered over to the young man whom she had known his whole life. She had been more of a mother to him than his own mother, and now she looked at him with all the love and knowledge any maternal figure could offer.

"Dear, don't you realize what this means? Or have you forgotten? In order for us to be free now you must have learned to love another…and earned her love in return." (Potts)

She watched as realization struck in his blue eyes. "Earned another's love, BELLE LOVES ME!"

"Why of course she does, you Casanova!" (Lumiere)

"Master may I take this opportunity to offer my congratulations." (Cogsworth)

"I have to go see her!" The Prince jumped to his feet and ran towards the door, only to be stopped by a surprisingly agile former candle stick sliding in front of said door blocking his exit.

"Not so fast! You can't court a girl looking like THAT!" (Lumiere)

The Prince looked down at the oversized shirt and trousers that drowned him.

"You need to sweep her off her feet!" (Lumiere)

"Lumiere does have a point Master. You love this girl and she you, it wouldn't hurt to clean up first." (Potts)

"And, might I humbly suggest, a rrrrrrrrrrrr-romatic gesture." (Cogsworth)

"Oh YES!" (Lumiere and Potts)

"Like what?" (Prince)

"You could ride to zee village on a great stallion!" (Lumiere)

"Perhaps bring the lady a gift." (Cogsworth)

"Oh Roses would do nicely." (Potts)

"Zen you get down on one knee." (Lumiere)

"Wearing a fine suite of clothes." (Potts)

"A-And with a ring!" (Cogsworth)

"You confess your Love!" (Lumiere)

"She says it back." (Cogsworth)

"You take her in your arms." (Lumiere)

"Bring her back to the castle." (Potts)

"And Live HAPPILY EVER AFTER!" (Lumiere)

The sheer excitement emanating from the group was electric, and the Prince found himself caught up in it. They spent the rest of the night planning to the last detail the grand day (the morning) when he would go get the woman he loved.

 _The Next Morning, Path to the village._

It was like a scene from a story book, the handsome prince riding towards the village in his blue coat and holding a bouquet of roses, atop a white steed.

His heart was light and he looked around at the scenery with a new sense of wonder, the birds sang happily, the sun shone brightly, and the grass had never looked so green. Everything appears grander when you're in love.

As he exited the forest he could see the tiny village in the distance. With a burst of energy the horse galloped across the clearing towards the nearing town. This was the happiest day of his life, and with the good cheer of one who is in love and knows he is loved in return, he wished the whole world know of his good fortune, and to feel just as happy as he.

As he entered the village, he found it abuzz with excitement, there seemed to be a giant celebration taking place that everyone had been invited to.

His curiosity piqued, riding along the edge of the crowd, he approached a stout man with a ruddy face, and long white apron covered in flour.

 _Clearly the baker._

Pulling his horse to a halt, he greeted the villager warmly while trying to avoid his horse bolting from the strain of so many people being pressed together in the square.

"Excuse me good sir, might I ask what all the excitement is about?" he asked.

The baker turned to the richly dressed stranger with a hearty smile.

"Of course Monsieur, the whole town is celebrating a wedding, the biggest I've seen!" the baker replied.

With a heart full of good cheer and thoughts of his own hopeful upcoming wedding. The Prince wished to congratulate the couple and wish them all the happiness he hoped to share with his own beloved.

"Why that is wonderful! Tell me sir, where might I find the happy couple?"

"They should be coming out of the tavern any minute now, though I doubt they slept much." He chuckled crudely.

"There they are now" replied the Baker.

The Prince turned his eyes towards the direction the Baker pointed. There he saw a very tall and handsome young man and on his arm was…. _Belle?_

 _No_ , he thought _it can't be_.

He felt as though his heart was breaking in two. _But how? Why? She wouldn't, she CAN'T!_

He watched as the groom put his arm around Belle's waist. The Prince could taste bile. That was supposed to be him!

 _Why Belle, WHY?!_ He silently screamed, wishing some magical force would let her hear him and answer.

Belle's face scanned the crowd of well-wishers. Finally she glanced at the stranger on a horse near the rear of the mass of onlookers.

 _Please Belle, Please look at me…. Look at me, Please, I came, I came for you. Please you have to see me. Just LOOK AT ME!_

For a moment their eyes met, and his heart stopped beating.

He held his breath, waiting, hoping, for the recognition of the woman he loved.

 _…_ _.It's me, Belle. Recognize me, you have to recognize me, I love you, I love you Belle. Please love me too! See me, SEE ME! Please, you have too…_

She looked away….. And in that moment he felt more pain then he could possibly bear. The man hunched forward clutching his heart as if he would rip it out of his chest, maybe then it would stop hurting.

 _No….no, no, NO! Why Belle?...WHY? You can't! I love you…..I came…please…I came….too late….I came too late…_

The Baker turned back to the stranger seeing him hunched over his horse clutching his chest.

"MONSIEUR! What is wrong shall I call the doctor?"

The stranger struggled to shake his head no. He straitened as much as he could and turned to watch the newly married couple walking away.

With an unsteady hand he handed the Baker a bouquet of red Roses.

"Please," he said between sharp breaths. "Please….. Give these to the bride….and tell her…tell her….I wish her happiness."

The Baker took the flowers from the shaking hand and was shocked when he looked up, the face that only moments ago had seemed so young and full of life, was now aged ten years and racked with pain.

"Please Monsieur, let me get a physician. You are not well."

The stranger shook his head and turned his horse to leave.

As he rode away, the prince could not stop the tears from flowing down his face, he felt as though his world had darkened forever. The one he loved could not be his; no pain in the world compared to this agony.

 _Be happy Belle, please be happy for me. Let me at least think of you always….as happy….Goodbye, oh my love._


	2. Chapter 1: An Omen

**Here Is CHAPTER 1! Hopefully Chapter 2 will be up real soon.**

 **Please Review.**

 **Chapter 1: An Omen**

 _7 years later._

Belle felt like she was dying. Please let her die, at least then it would end. She grabbed the headboard, digging her nails in to the wood as another contraction hit, wracking her body with pain.

She gritted her teeth to keep from screaming; she did that purely on instinct. Truth be told, she didn't care who heard her yell. Let the whole town hear! She was going to die here in this bed and then it wouldn't matter.

"Madame, you are not going to die. It won't be long now."

 _Of course I am going to die! No one could possibly live through something this painful._

The old bat had lied. An eternity had passed and still it didn't end. She felt as if she was being torn in half; her whole body was on fire. Through the haze, she could hear far off voices speaking to her only to be drowned out by a fresh wave of pain.

"Push! Don't hold the child back, PUSH!"

 _Hold it back? Are they crazy?!_

No one was more ready to have this child then she was. Belle was tired of being pregnant and would gladly never be again.

Her body hadn't been hers in months. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept, and for nine months she had grown increasingly more uncomfortable and miserable until she didn't think she could stand it a moment longer. All that discomfort and anxiety culminating in the most frightening and painful ordeal imaginable, and supposedly she was trying to prolong it by holding the baby back! It was amazing anyone survived this, because she surely wouldn't.

A sharp pain unlike any before brought Belle hurdling back to reality. The commands to push were pointless because her body took over instinctively seeming to know what to do, and then it was over.

Exhausted, Belle fell back against the pillow, too tired to even lift her head.

She looked over the end of the bed at the gaggle of midwifes huddled together like a pack of conspiring old witches. She could hear a baby screaming with the power of a grown man.

A middle aged woman broke free from the flock and carried the screaming bundle over to the bed.

"Congratulations Madame! You have a healthy daughter, and quite a beauty."

Somehow Belle found the strength to hold out her arms as the midwife laid the soft bundle in them.

The moment she held her, the baby quietened and snuggled close. Calmed by the presence of her mother, instinctively knowing that this place was safe.

All pain and discomfort was forgotten as Belle held her baby for the first time. Belle looked at the soft downy chestnut hair, tiny nose, and perfect fingers and toes. She was perfect, so tiny and absolutely perfect.

An overwhelming sense of love filled Belle as she stared at the tiny sleeping baby. She couldn't describe it, but she knew that she had never loved like this before, and until the day she died, nothing could ever break the love she felt for this child, her daughter.

The Baby opened her eyes, staring curiously up at her mother, revealing a pair of exquisite violet eyes. Belle gasped, redirecting the attention of the five odd midwives to the baby.

"OH MY!"

"Look at those eyes."

"I've never seen any like them, have you?"

"Not I, she surely is something special."

The oldest of the midwives, (a woman who was 100, if she was a day) crossed herself religiously. Lifting a boney finger in warning, she shook it at the new mother and infant. Her raspy voice full of foreboding and mistrust.

"It's an evil omen. A child with such eyes will know an uncertain future."

The old hag was silenced by the others telling her to shut her stupid old mouth, pronouncing that the baby was beautiful and those eyes were special and unique.

Belle ignored them all, too wrapped up in the joy of new motherhood. She continued to look at her tiny daughter, who stared back with an intelligent gaze, full of curiosity.

The peaceful moment between mother and child was broken by an unwelcome intruder.

The door to the already filled to capacity room burst open with an aggressive energy. In stepped Gaston an overeager grin on his face and barely contained excitement in his eyes.

"Where is he? Where is my son?"

Belle's moment of joy had been dampened by his entrance. She stared at him…her husband. Strange that after all these years he was just as much a stranger to her as the day they married.

Seven years, such a long time, a life time really. How much had changed, how much remained the same.

She had only been 17 when they married, Gaston was 20. A day hadn't gone by that their two dominating personalities hadn't clashed. Some days it was just an underlining irritation, other days the tension would boil over into a shouting match that could wake the dead. And the main cause for all the suspense? For seven years they had been married, lived together as husband and wife and for seven years they had remained childless.

They would never understand each other, but one thing had been very clear since the beginning, Gaston wanted sons, and right away.

The thought of having the man she suffered to be her husband's children filled her with contempt. In the beginning she found it unthinkable, it would have been an acceptance of their marriage, it would have damned forever the illusion that this was all just a horrible dream.

But as the years went by she grew to accept her life for what it was, she was Madame Gaston, and nothing would change it. And as time passed and still no baby she began to share his frustrations. After all Belle did love children, and perhaps having one of her own would breach the widening gap between husband and wife, and make her own life less…lonely. And now finally she had a child, and she was perfect.

"Monsieur you have a lovely baby daughter." The midwife told Gaston.

Gaston stared at the woman in shock. (The idea of having a girl never occurred to him.)

"A girl? No. Where is my son?"

The midwife backed away a step at the change in his tone.

Now enraged Gaston glared at the group of women demanding an explanation. He had waited SEVEN YEARS! For a son, his son, so where was he?!

The mountain of a man clenched his fists in frustration, his normally handsome face was ablaze with rage. How could this be? He was supposed to have a boy!

 _This was all her fault! Belle, she was the reason, it was all…_

Gaston stopped in his tracks when his gaze finally found Belle's horrified face. Her normally reserved features now looked back at him in blatant shock. Her hazel eyes were weary and held a note of something he had never witnessed there before…hurt.

He looked around the room at the gazes that mirrored his wife's. Trying to recover the situation Gaston lowered his voice and gritted his teeth trying to contain his disappointment and frustration.

"No matter, next time a boy." He gruffly kissed the top of his wife's head before exiting the room, slamming the door behind him.

 _Next time…a boy._

It sounded more like a threat then a hope.

The woman all stood quiet, the shock on the midwives faces was evident. Apparently Gaston's behavior was too much even for them, which was surprising.

If it was possible the town's hero worship of Gaston had only increased through the years, their blind sheep like loyalty was almost laughable, if Gaston said the night was day then the even the sun would be hard pressed to correct him.

The head midwife (probably self-appointed) turned to the others.

"Well of course he wants a son, any man would."

Murmurs of agreement quickly sprang up from the others, if anything Monsieur Gaston should want a son more than any other man, he was a great hunter and had a legacy to pass on. The group further reasoned that Gaston had only behaved naturally, dare they say respectably given the circumstances.

There excuses of the husband however did not mean that they were turning against his wife. If anything this realization deepened their sympathy for the woman who after so long had only managed to have a daughter, and they proceeded to quietly reassure her that boys would follow and they would pray for her future happiness.

They all seemed of one mind in this. That is except for the oldest. The woman who had cursed the new baby as something to be watchful of now spit on the worn wooden floor and hissed through cracked teeth a curse on the man for his arrogance.

Once again she was shushed by her younger compatriots who threatened to burn the old witch if she didn't mind her tongue.

Belle ignored them all and returned her attention to the sleeping baby in her arms. She should have expected nothing less from Gaston than a tantrum.

 _Spoiled child._

Though Belle was surprised that his reaction had hurt. She didn't think that was possible. Oh he frustrated her. Was rude and demanding, narrow minded and vain, but she had always known that and honestly didn't expect him to behave any other way. So it was a shock to know that he was capable of doing something that could actually hurt her. But the look on his face at the news of their daughter had definitely done that.

Belle looked at the angelic face of her little girl.

"Well _ma Cherie,_ I wonder what kind of life you will have?"


	3. Chapter 2: This Time

**Sorry It has been awhile but here is the next Chapter, Enjoy**

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **Chapter 2: This Time**

 _1 year later_

Gaston paced the floor wearing thin the rug beneath his feet.

 _This time it_ _must_ _be a boy!_ He bitterly contemplated.

Another muffled cry resonated through the small house interrupting his impatient pacing. Taking a seat in front of the fireplace he poked the embers trying to reignite the blaze from the coals he had ignored.

 _It will be a boy, she wouldn't dare deny me again._

As Gaston reflected on his personal misfortunes, someone else entered the room.

Gaston looked down as she toddled around the room, reaching for whatever caught her fancy. The chestnut haired toddler had been completely forgotten in all the excitement and had used her new found freedom to her advantage, as evidenced by the splattering of flour across her clothes.

As he observed his daughter, Gaston's thoughts turned to what a disappointment she was. Truth be told he had barely payed her any attention since she was born. In fact, this was the first time he had ever found himself alone with her. It wasn't that she was particularly troublesome; actually, often times he found he forgot her existence entirely. It was just that wounded pride was an acutely painful affliction that was difficult to heal.

Ignoring her watchful father, the one year old continued her exploration of the room. For once unobstructed by her mother's watchful eye. Her own large gaze caught sight of the shiny rifle propped against the hearth and her animal like curiosity drew her to it. As her chubby little hands reached for the weapon her small foot caught on the rug pulling her down to the hard wood floor.

He watched as she fell down. He had a moment of concern before he remembered that he didn't like the child.

Any other baby would have cried for the sympathy of its mother after such a tumble, but not her. Gaston smiled in spite of himself as he noted that there were no tears in her eyes, only a righteous fury. She pushed herself up on fat arms smacking the ground with an indignant little fist for betraying her. Once on her feet she stomped her little foot on the rug that tripped her in outrage, her nostrils flaring angrily in frustration.

Gaston couldn't help it and let out a loud belly laugh slapping his chair so hard it shook the floor causing the little girl who had just set herself to rights to fall back on her bum.

He stood still chucking to himself. He picked up the child's rag doll from the floor and dropped it in her lap patting her head uncharacteristically.

The child looked up at him curiously with those large violet eyes, judging him with her intelligent gaze. Gaston's temporary good humor left as he stared back.

(Sigh) "At least you're a pretty one, that's something I suppose."

Ignoring his child once again he continued his pacing.

The little girl watched the big man with loud boots continue his walk. She couldn't understand all the excitement. The only thing she did comprehend was that she couldn't find her mother.

Oddly enough this didn't frighten the small child; it only filled her small being with an irritating curiosity, after all mama had always been there…so where could she have gone?

A baby's cry broke the silence.

Gaston bolted up the stairs leaving the toddler alone and forgotten.


	4. Chapter 3: Reflections

**After a bit of a break we finally have CHAPTER 3! (insert cheering crowd)**

 **Pretty Please Review, it really helps the motivation.**

 **Thank you and enjoy**

 **Chapter 3: Reflections**

 _3 years later_

Belle knelt down on the damp ground retching into the flower bed. Using the edge of the rain water barrel for support she pulled herself up to stand on shaky legs.

 _Not again!_ She thought.

This would be her fourth pregnancy—she couldn't do it anymore! Belle loved her children but having them had never been easy on her, each time being more difficult than the last.

As the nausea abated she looked into the barrel. Staring back from the murky water her reflection judged her. Her face, beautiful as always now held an unmistakable permanent weariness that had settled on her features and in her eyes.

Smoothing a few stray hairs back into her neat bun her thoughts turned to her latest quarrel with Gaston.

He had come home in the wee hours of the mourning completely drunk! Not a common thing for him, if there was one thing Gaston was good at (besides killing animals.) it was holding his liquor. And even though she was used to him coming and going as he pleased this time he broke his own record of inconsideration.

In spite of herself she had been concerned when he hadn't come home, thinking that his luck may have finally run out and the wolves in the forest had won.

Any wifely feeling quickly died however when her husband sloshed in singing at the top of his lungs. The memory of which still gave her a headache.

She hadn't argued with him about it (out loud anyway.) She had learned long ago that her life was easier if she gave into him in small matters, saving her strength for the big things. Whereas once she would have fought for every inch, patience was now a virtue she could lay claim to.

Of course Belle wasn't the only one who had changed. Gaston was just as stubborn and vain as ever but as the years had passed he had grown to respect her well-mannered nature and envy her more educated mind, (though he would have never admitted it.)

With time he had come to realize her superior skill at working figures and her ability to read other people's emotions as useful tools. Both of which eluded him and caused countless instances of frustration.

Slowly she had convinced him to yield to her in matters of finance (or at least with what was left after his trips to the tavern.) and even though he still believed he ran his home in all capacities with an iron fist, it would be many years before he would realize how much he owed her for the countless details she quietly took care of before they could catch his attention.

 _Yes,_ Belle thought as she studied her reflection. She wasn't pleased with her life, but she admitted it could be worse.

Picking up her basket of eggs she headed back inside trying to beat the sun that was beginning its early climb into the sky. The children would be up soon…as should be Gaston.

 _An hour later,_

Belle beat the dough into submission as she finished making the day's bread. She had been trying to save money by not going to the baker. Hopefully she could save enough to buy new shoes for the children before winter. Gaston never thought of such things and always failed to set aside enough money.

 _Doesn't he realize that children grow?_

Looking out the window at the risen sun she decided it was time to relinquish the quiet of early morning.

Climbing the stairs she went to wake the children crossing the small hallway she arrived at one of only two doors, quietly she opened it and peered inside smiling at the sleeping little figures. They looked so sweet when asleep…too bad it couldn't last.

Walking on silent feet she approached the cradle first, leaning over she looked at the sweet sleeping face of one year old Jacques. Brushing a few blond strands of hair from his forehead Belle noted that it was beginning to change color and would probably be dark like his father's one day. Blue eyes opened and looked back at her before closing again. She smiled.

 _Very well my love, a little longer._

Leaving the toddler to his dreams she moved to the bed where two small children slept. Belle tried to stifle a laugh at the sight that greeted her. One of the two occupants had managed to steal the blanket from the other and had rolled it around himself, but funnier still was that the other had managed to maneuver the offender to the very edge of the cot procuring for herself the larger section and two thirds of the pillow.

Kneeling down she put herself on eye level with the three-year-old Gaston.

 _Only Gaston would be vain enough to name a child after himself._

The elder Gaston had been so proud at the birth of his first son that he promptly named the boy after himself before Belle had a chance to intervene. According to Gaston it was to carry on his (mostly imagined) legacy.

She kissed the temple of the dark haired little boy whose hazel eyes looked back unamused from his quilted cocoon. Belle stared back equally determined and motioned for him to get up. The indignant child ignored her and tried to roll onto his stomach to avoid her gaze but ran out of bed in the process and would have fallen to the floor had he not been caught by his mother.

Now fully awake from the shock he kicked her away and stood staring angrily at the still sleeping child on the bed. His little face was full of rage and Belle had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at his serious demeanor. The three-year-old turned in a huff to go downstairs, but paused, turning back he quickly snatched the pillow out from under his sleeping sister's head and ran out of the room before the beast awoke and realized his act of revenge.

The hard sleeper didn't even acknowledge the theft, too lost was she in the world of dreams. As Belle watched her sleeping daughter concern filled her.

Jacqueline was only four years old but already she showed an unbending will that worried her mother.

From personal experience Belle knew that one must be willing to compromise but her daughter showed no such inclination.

Brushing aside the rat's nest of chestnut curls surrounding her face Belle awakened her daughter. The little girl looked back with ill-tempered violet eyes. Keeping a stern gaze on her face she motioned for her to rise, the little girl knew arguing would be pointless.

Sliding off the bed she looked determinedly at her mother who kissed her forehead. Annoyed, the little girl promptly wiped away the kiss. Smiling, Belle left her to dress.

Crossing the narrow stretch of floor that passed for a hall she opened the door to her own room and an unholy stench reached her nose. Crossing her arms she looked at her husband, sprawled across the bed, boots still on.

She debated being kind, but she was still sore about the previous night's recent discovery. So with no remorse she picked up the pitcher of water from the wash basin and poured half the contents on him, (knowing she would have to wash the sheets later for doing so but finding it completely worth it.)

Gaston sputtered as if he was drowning. Looking to see a very cross Belle.

"BELLLLLLLLLE!"

"WHAT?!"

Gaston just glared while water dripped off his nose. (He didn't know what he was planning on saying after that.)

"Nothing to say this morning _dear husband_?"

"What's wrong with you now?"

Cold fire danced in her eyes. "A problem that you created!"

Gaston had never been one for riddles and had little patience for them.

"Damnit Belle what are you talking about? AND WHY AM I ALL WET!"

"I AM PREGNANT!" she announced unceremoniously "AND YOU STINK!"

Slamming the door before he had a chance to respond, grabbing the baby from his cradle she marched down the stairs to serve her children their breakfast.

The porridge was half gone by the time Gaston clomped down the stairs, grinning from ear to ear. (The news of a new baby always put him in a good mood.)

With large even strides he crossed the floor to where Belle was frying eggs. Pulling her away from the stove he picked her up and kissed her passionately. Then setting her back down he sauntered over to the table.

Belle's righteous anger was shocked right out of her as she watched her husband's back. He hadn't kissed her like that in many years.

Turning back to the eggs she decided that although she was NOT pleased, remaining angry at him wouldn't do her any good. Belle had learned a while ago that manipulation, rather than force or tantrums, would get her farther. (Despite her actions that morning—they had been a rare occurrence.)

Gaston took his seat at the table (not before checking his reflection in the mirror on the wall). Reaching a large hand across the table he affectionately ruffled little Gaston's hair, and leaning back to the high chair he pinched the baby's cheek.

Sitting ignored and unhappy at the other end of the table Jacqueline watched her father forlornly while her brothers received his affection. He didn't even acknowledge her existence.

Seeing her daughter's forgotten face, Belle's heart broke.

 _Later That Day,_

Belle hurried through the village anxious to get to her father's cottage (they were late already). Hosting Jacques higher on her hip she practically ran past the butchers, fighting back the morning sickness that was irritated by the odors from within.

Despite her haste she was careful not to upset the basket on her arm that was full of bread and eggs for her Papa. (Maurice had never been a very good cook.)

Slowing her pace she began to walk leisurely as she neared the edge of town, observantly watching Gaston and Jacqueline running back and forth ahead.

"Belle! Wait for me!"

Belle turned to see the cobbler's wife running towards her, not any easy task since the good woman was well endowed.

"Bonjour Madeleine, we were just walking to my father's, would you care to join us?"

The more rotund woman fanned herself with her apron, her large bosom bobbing up and down with each labored breath.

"Heaven sakes no my dear, you know someone as sickly as I shouldn't be taxing herself by walking about!"

Madeleine d'Aboville had never been sick a day in her life, though you would be hard pressed to convince her of that. The woman was sure that the grim reaper lurked at her door and took great delight in telling her friends of all the ailments that befell her, basking in their tolerant sympathy. A shameless gossip, no one would have trusted her for a moment with any vital information. However, those around her found it harmless enough to feed her folly with what they deemed irrelevant bits of idle gossip. Thus Madeleine naively believed herself the most well-informed woman in the principality, and none took the opportunity to correct her.

Of her more redeeming qualities Madeleine had a kind heart for underdogs and although never put to its full use, she possessed a mind of average intellect that had she developed it could have been much more. For these qualities and the fact that she was one of the few to show genuine interest in her, Belle had come to think of the woman as her only real friend in the town.

"Well my dear Madame Gaston have you heard the news?"

"What fascinating tidbit have you garnered now Madeleine? Is the baker cheating on his wife again?" Belle asked indulgently.

The older woman waved her hand dismissively. "Hardly worth my time, no my dear I mean the talk of the prince!"

"The who?"

"BELLE! How could you have forgotten, the prince that had left years ago but returned again to rule this principality near a decade passed!"

Belle sighed in frustration. "I forgot Madeleine because none of that nonsense has anything to do with my life."

Belle felt guilty as she looked at her friend's crestfallen face.

"What's the news Madeleine?" She asked trying to sound kinder. It worked—the other woman perked up immediately.

"Well, there is speculation that he will take a bride soon, and there has been a lot of talk about which lady of his court it will be, or perhaps he will marry a foreign princess."

At the back of her mind a memory came to Belle. The memory of a large dark castle in the forest, and a frightening beast with claws. A memory so long unthought-of of it had passed into the realm of dreams to the point where on occasion Belle wondered if it had ever all existed or if it had all been a dream.

Shoving the memory aside her attention was reengaged by the sound of a child's screams. Hastily bidding her friend farewell she ran ahead to where little Gaston stood crying his eyes out.

She knelt down in front of the little boy who was holding his arm and screaming with ever increasing conviction. She looked to see a large bruise forming on his forearm. The little boy threw himself on his mother who tried to comfort him while balancing the baby on her hip.

"Gaston what happened?"

With his head still buried in her shoulder the toddler pointed towards his sister who had been watching the whole scene silently from a distance. Muffled from her shoulder he spoke.

"SSShe…(sniff) p-pupppp-inchhhh….ME!" (more tears.)

Finally breaking free from the three year olds grasp she put the baby down and instructed the whimpering little boy to not move and watch his brother.

Careful to not go far so as to be able to catch the boys if they bolted she motioned the little girl to follow her a little ways up the path. Jacqueline did as she was told, holding with her arms behind her back and looking completely unrepentant.

Belle knelt down so she was on eye level with her daughter.

"Jacqueline, did you pinch Gaston?"

The four year old looked back completely unashamed.

"Yes."

"Jacqueline why did you pinch him?"

"He deserved it." She said with the conviction of a priest, (wars had been waged with less conviction then that little girl's statement).

"And what makes you say that?"

"He deserved it."

Clearly that was all the information Belle was going to receive.

"Jacqueline, you hurt your brother, now I want you to go and apologize to him."

Jacqueline straightened to her full height, pocking out her little chest and raising her chin she looked her mother square in the eye.

"I am not sorry."

Belle stared back in equal determination, deciding to take another approach she continued to talk gently.

"Jacqueline do you love me?"

That question took the little girl by surprise, she immediately relaxed her stance and nodded her head vigorously.

"Yes Mama, very much!" the little girl looked hurt that her mother would doubt her love and Belle's heart melted.

"And I love you too my dear, very much."

The little girl's face relaxed.

"But I also love Gaston, and it makes mama very sad when you hurt him."

Belle watched guilt form for the first time on her daughters face. She may not have cared much for her brother's but the little girl loved her mother and that emotion alone was strong enough to coax a conscious out of her.

Bowing her head in shame the little girl whispered. " _I am sorry Mama._ "

Placing a hand on the girls cheek Belle said. "I know _ma Cherie_ , but you must tell him that."

The four year old nodded in agreement and Belle stood taking the little girls hand in hers to lead her back to the other children.

When Jacqueline lifted her hand to her mother's, her sleeve slipped and Belle thought she saw what appeared to be a small bruise on her forearm in exactly the same location as Gaston's, but the little girl pulled her sleeve back before she could tell for sure.

Looking back at her son Belle noticed a smug little look on Gaston's face that now showed no traces of his previous tears.

She was about to broach the subject but a loud explosion sounded from her father's cottage farther up the road.

Picking up the baby and grabbing Gaston by the hand she raced toward the cottage commanding Jacqueline to keep up.

 _Maurice's Cottage,_

(Cough) "PAPA?"

Belle pushed back the cellar doors to reveal a wall of smoke.

"PAPA?"

As the smoke cleared Jacqueline tumbled down the few steps into Maurice's workshop.

"Whoa there!"

Belle breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of her father's voice. In moments she stood in front of her father and daughter.

"You must be more careful Belle, you know what your mother says about running." Maurice said while dusting off the little girl. Belle (the real Belle) looked on in confusion.

Seeing her at the base of the stairs Maurice straightened and placed his hands on Jacqueline's shoulders.

"Oh here she is now, don't worry Louise she's alright no scratches to be found." The old man said smiling.

"Papa?" Belle asked, the old man's smile began to waver in confusion.

"Papa I am Belle, that's Jacqueline… _my_ daughter…your granddaughter."

A look of confusion and panic flashed across the elderly man's face. Quickly being replaced with a smile.

"Belle! Of course! How wonderful to see you my dear, what are you doing here?"

"It's Tuesday Grandpa, we come on Tuesday!" Jacqueline offered.

Once again his smile faltered as he looked at the little girl.

"It's Tuesday?" looking at Belle's concerned face he quickly plastered a too bright smile on his own face, trying to conceal his confusion.

"Of course it is I knew that." It was a lie but not one he was willing to admit to.

He spent the next few minutes showing his grandchildren around the work shop before his daughter interrupted.

"Papa I have brought you some bread and eggs." She held out the basket.

Maurice's face filled with instant delight. "Why thank you dear, but your mother is already making supper, in fact it should be done soon."

Belle felt as if a cold wind had just blown in pushing away the sun and bringing a ghost to stand eerily by her shoulder.

"My what…Papa?"

"Your mother dear, I helped her start supper about an hour ago she should be done soon."

With those words the bitter smell of burning food reached her nostrils and Belle bolted out of the cellar and ran up the short steps into the cottage.

Upon opening the door she was overcome by thick black smoke. Holding her apron the her face she rushed inside, grabbing a pitcher of water from the table she doused the flames rising from a pot of what she supposed had once been food.

After vanquishing the flames she flew about the house opening windows and fanning the smoke away with her apron.

When she was done she collapsed in a chair and looked to see her father and children standing dumbstruck in the door way. The children quickly found things of interest about the room but Maurice walked forward as if coming out of a trance—his face full of bewilderment.

"I can't imagine what happened, it isn't like Louise to be so forgetful…where is she?"

Maurice looked at his daughter with the sad face of a lost child. With tears in her eyes Belle realized that this wasn't some kind of game…her father…her papa…he couldn't remember.

Gently taking his hand she helped him sit and then looking in his eyes she had to watch his heart break all over again.

"Papa…Mama's dead….She's dead Papa…and she has been…for a long time."

Maurice looked off into the distance as if saying goodbye to a lovely vision that left him in a foreign world that frightened him.

"Louise…dead…..Oh yes, I remember…I remember."

And he did…for now.

Belle left that cottage very concerned.

 _What if Papa forgets again, what if he hurts himself, he's all alone, who will help him?_

Making up her mind she marched home, determined to talk to Gaston about it.

 _That Evening,_

Gaston arrived home in a good mood, with the large pheasant he had killed as a gift for his little wife.

Smiling he plopped the bird down on the table waiting for the praise he felt he deserved (and so rarely received) for his contribution. Much to his pleasant surprise he was greeted by a warm smile and kiss on the cheek from his wife.

"Hello Gaston, I need to talk to you."

Gaston's smile disappeared. Belle wanting to talk was never a good thing.

"What about?"

Keeping her smile firmly in place she began.

"I visited my father today…"

"Hmmm"

"And he is very old Gaston and his is memory is fading."

"Hmmmm"

"And I want him to come and live with us."

"WHAT!"

"He won't be any trouble."

"Absolutely NOT! You think I am going to have that crazy old loon in MY HOUSE! NO!"

"GASTON HE'S MY FATHER!"

"THE ANSWER IS NO BELLE!"

And with that Gaston sat down in his chair in front of the fire, kicking off his muddy boots.

Instinctively Belle picked up the boots and put them away beside the door, quickly wiping of the mud as she went. In the early days of their marriage they had fought day and night over those boots until at last she gave up. Deciding that they would only get put away if she did it Belle began picking up her husband's boots. Little by little the action had become so ingrained in both of them that the routine now took place without any thought whereas once the idea would have been unthinkable to Belle. O how far she had gone from that willful and determined 17-year-old girl.

So far had Belle's resolve worn away and been replaced by indifferent servitude that had that 17 –year-old looked at the woman as she was now, she wouldn't have been able to recognize her as herself. It had been a slow transition, so slow that she had not even known it was happening and now she was so changed through the long years of fighting that she would never know.

Someone was judging her silently, across the room a large pair of violet eyes watched her mother clean her father's boots, and those eyes judged her, as no others ever would.

"Complain all you like Gaston, but on this I will not give up. My father will come live with us tomorrow." Having said her piece, she went upstairs to escape the inevitable wrath and to help strengthen her own resolve with the distance.

Gaston stood with anger coursing through his veins, he would not be dictated to in his own house!

"OVER MY DEAD BODY!"


	5. Chapter 4: Papa

**Who Won the Fight?**

 **Please, Please, Please Review! And Thank You so much to everyone who has Reviewed I really enjoy your insight and opinions, keep em coming!**

 **Chapter 4: Papa**

 _5 Days Later_

"Maurice- _Welcome!_ " Gaston said threw a forced smile that looked almost like it hurt, it was so falsely cheerful.

They had fought for four days nonstop over Maurice's impending arrival. The tension had never been as heavy in that house as it was for those four days.

After Belle went upstairs asserting that her father would be coming to live with them whether he liked it or not, Gaston had followed her, shouting all the while that, father or no father, Maurice was a crazy loon, with whom he refused to live under the same roof.

Pounding on the closed bedroom door, he continued to rage, demanding that she let him in (the door wasn't locked but he didn't think to check) yelling that this was his house and she would do as he said!

That shouting match had occupied the first day of battle. By the second, the two were reduced to cold silence and sabotage. Gaston had awoken to an empty plate and a silent wife who refused to acknowledge him. Not one to be outdone, Gaston determined that if she felt she had the right to ignore her wifely duties, he would make her pay.

So Belle had to endure two days with no firewood for cooking, no money for the market, and a husband who had disappeared, returning the morning of the fourth day of war as silent and cruel as the grave.

By that afternoon Belle was in tears, begging Gaston to allow her elderly father to live with them. He had a moment of hesitation, thinking of her condition. He had always been uncomfortable around female tears, but believing that a man needed to keep a strong hand, he refused.

"Woman! Give up!"

Her cries silenced. In a miraculous moment Belle transformed into the 17 year old girl who had sacrificed life and happiness for her beloved father, a woman who would fight to the death for those she loved, and feared no one. She rose from the floor, facing her husband with the burning passion of a woman long oppressed. The caged animal had been backed into a corner with no escape, save through the hunter.

Gaston took a step back from this creature he could not recognize. With a hand raised high in the air as if calling judgement down from above, she marched toward him with the blinded courage of a trapped animal.

"GIVE UP!"

"Belle…"

"SHUT UP! YOU STUPID, IGNORANT, BEAST!"

Never had Gaston been called such things and the shock did, for once in his life, silence him.

"HOW DARE YOU! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? THIS IS MY HOME JUST AS MUCH AS IT IS YOURS AND I WILL HAVE MY FATHER HERE!"

"IT IS MY HOUSE…"

"WHO CLEANS IT? WHO COOKS? WHO RAISES THE CHILDREN? I DO! IF YOU DON'T LET HIM COME HERE I WILL TELL THE WHOLE TOWN THAT YOU THREW YOUR FATHER IN LAW OUT INTO THE STREET, DISGRACING YOUR WIFE!"

Few things, if any, mattered more to Gaston then his reputation. Even so, he highly doubted that the town would judge him for refusing the town lunatic a place in his home. He stared at his wife unblinking, analyzing her resolve. To Belle's eternal shock and gratitude, he relented.

"Very well, bring the lunatic, but I warn you he is your responsibility."

Belle's heart soared. She had won! She opened her mouth to thank him, but was stopped cold by what he said next.

Even Belle had not realized the extent of his vanity. The fact that she had been able to conquer him in such a way left a bitter taste in Gaston's mouth and a hardening in his heart. Turning to her he relayed a warning. Moving until they were a mere breaths width apart he hissed in her ear.

" _Don't you dare defy me again, or I will divorce you…and you will never see your children…again._ "

Yes, the animal had beaten the hunter…but she was the one who had been mortally wounded in the fight.

Gaston would continue on believing nothing had changed between them, except he had regained his place as head of the house. The fool didn't understand the chasm he had created where once only a line stood.

 _Back in the present,_

But this unhappy memory was pushed away as Belle and Gaston welcomed her papa into their "home."

" _Merci_ Gaston." Maurice said with a trusting smile.

Full of joy, Belle showed him the bed in the corner of the main room that she had made up for him. She would have preferred to give him a room of his own, but sadly there was not enough space. Still, she had tried to make this space as pleasant as possible.

"Here you go, Papa. This chest is yours too I hope it is alright."

"It's perfect Belle."

With his job done, Gaston clomped out of the door grabbing his rifle on the way.

Maurice watched him leave with concern.

"Belle, is Gaston unhappy about my being here? I would hate to be an inconvenience."

The elderly man was proud in his own way and was having a very difficult time, feeling ashamed of the reason for his being there, he could not take the knowledge that he was unwelcome as well. It would have made him feel utterly wretched.

With a bright smile Belle waved away her papa's concerns saying that not only was Gaston delighted at Maurice's arrival he was the one to suggest him coming to stay with them.

As relief settled on Maurice Belle wondered how many such little lies she had told him over the years to spare his feelings. She believed it to be worth it and hoped that she was doing the right thing by concealing the truth.

 _Outside,_

Having been shooed out of the house the three small children were entertaining themselves in the shade of a large tree behind the cottage enjoying the fresh spring weather.

Jacqueline sat pleasantly beneath the large oak building a town out of twigs and leaves. As she worked she wondered how long her Grandpa would be staying with them. After a little deliberation she decided that she was happy for his being there, he was nice, if a little strange.

She knew mama was happy grandpa had come but she didn't think papa was. Even at four she was surprised by the fact that her papa had gave into mama on something he had seemed so against.

Giving up on contemplating the reasoning of adults Jacqueline picked up her rag doll and crowned her with a wreath of clover.

 _The Queen of the Forest bowed to the fish King._

 _"_ _Welcome your majesty the fish are happy to see you."_

 _All the fish men and women swam out of their houses to see the Queen of the forests in her green crown._

 _A fox bowed and gave her a scepter._

 _"_ _Please Madame, the mean tanner will turn us all into hats if you do not save us!"_

 _Using her magic the Queen made a big wall all around the animals' village protecting them from the giant tanner, cobbler, and cook who wanted to hurt them._

 _"_ _Don't worry animals, I will save you!"_

 _The crowd cheered as the fish brought her bouquets of sea weed and cakes._

 _"_ _From now on, we only eat CAKE!"_

 _Happy days had returned._

 _But what is that? A GIANT HAS COME! LOOK OUT EVERYONE, RUN!_

A foot came crashing down on the leaf built "kingdom" smashing all the wonderful shops and houses that her imagination had built.

Jacqueline watched spitefully as little Gaston kicked and broke her creations with his big feet! Roaring like a bear he swatted away the dirt clod "Foxes" and flower "Fish People" crushing them. Poor fish people perhaps they would have preferred to be hats?

"RRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRHHHHH"

He roared, apparently he was a bear, bent on ruining her fun.

Quickly changing roles the boy became a great hunter (like papa.) Holding up an imaginary bow he shot his sister with the imagined arrow.

"DIE BEAR!" (Apparently she was the bear now.)

Jacqueline watched through narrow eyes as her brother continued on his way leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

Digging her small hands into the dirt she fiercely resisted the urge to attack. Partly because if papa was still inside she would get a beating for hurting her brother (even if it was Gaston's fault for being so awful.) papa never saw it that way. But the main reason she was striving for sainthood was for mama.

Remembering what mama had said about how she loves Gaston and wanted Jacqueline to be kind to him was the primary reason Gaston's face was not currently in the dirt.

Mama had been sad when she had pinched Gaston, and mama was sad a lot. She didn't like seeing mama cry and wanted her to be happy. So she was going to be good, so mama wouldn't cry anymore.

Jacqueline noted that it is very hard to be good.

Determined in her resolve she began the rebuilding of her "Kingdom", but it was not to last.

Gaston had returned and this time he had a follower. Jacques waddled over to his sister making roaring noises in her ear and in the process spitting all over her face. Once again Gaston stomped across the leaves roaring and shooting imaginary arrows.

This time being good proved too difficult.

Leaping to her stubby legs she pushed Gaston away.

"Go Away Gaston!"

Taking Jacques by the arm she jerked him away from where she was playing.

"Go find mama Jacques!"

The baby having no understanding of her words continued to roar, scratching her arm with tiny claws.

Meanwhile Gaston had recovered himself and roughly pushed her from behind laughing when she fell on top of her own "town". Grabbing a twig she swung around and began to chase her brother swishing the twig back and forth violently threw the air making it whistle and trying to make contact with his backside.

The boy had the good sense to run away and began screaming as he led her on a "merry" chase.

The vengeful fury was halted when a man's hand grabbed the collar of her dress, lifting her partially off the ground.

For a moment the four year old's heart stopped in terror. Thinking her father had caught her inflicting justice on her brothers she braced herself, closing her eyes, awaiting the slap that was sure to come.

But instead she felt herself being gently placed back on the ground and heard a shaky old voice speaking kindly. Opening her eyes she saw not the hard face of her father but the old smiling face of grandpa.

"N-Now you must play nicely… your mama is tired and all this yelling will make her anxious." Maurice said smiling warmly at his grandchildren.

Little Gaston ignored him and went back to his games followed by an oblivious Jacques who was too young to care what happened.

Turning to his granddaughter Maurice beamed at the young girl with a smile that to Jacqueline seemed meant just for her.

"Well little mademoiselle, would you come help me unpack hmm? I need some help deciding where to put everything."

The little girl nodded her head as the elderly man took her small baby hand in his old withered one and lead her back inside, humming an odd little tune as they went.

Yes, Jacqueline thought, she was glad that grandpa had come to stay with them, and she hoped he would never leave.


	6. Chapter 5: Things to Learn

**I know it has been awhile but here is the next chapter!**

 **I really want to know what you all think about this story so please, please, please REVIEW!**

 **And Thank you so much to all of you have Reviewed I really appreciate it.**

 **Chapter 5: Things to Learn**

 _2 years later_

Jacqueline rushed through the street searching through the bustle of people going about their business.

"GRANDPA?"

She called as she checked different stalls and stores for her grandfather. Mama had asked grandpa to take her on a walk. The real reason for which was so that the six year old could keep an eye on him and not the other way around, a fact that had not been lost on the little girl. However, no sooner had they entered the street then the old man had disappeared. Now his granddaughter ran frantically searching for the man she was supposed to watch and was too young to be expected to do so.

 _Where did he go?_

It seemed to Jacqueline that her grandfather got confused more and more easily. More often than not he would call _her_ Belle (which was mama's name), and whenever she attempted to correct him he would get very fidgety and embarrassed to the point where mama had told her not to correct him anymore.

"GRANDPA?"

Belle's daughter was a very observant little girl and she knew that something wasn't right with her beloved grandfather and had showed surprising care for him, becoming his little shadow and would-be protector. It was surprising to all those around that the little girl with the shortest fuse in history could have such patience for a senile old man.

But Jacqueline was nothing if not loyal. Maurice had freely shown her the affection that she so longed for from her own father, but so rarely (if ever) received, and as much as the child adored her mother, Belle was so busy taking care of her ever expanding brood and temperamental husband that she just couldn't spare all the time she wished to spend with her sole daughter. So a special bond had formed between the unlikely pair. One that was, perhaps, more surprising than it would have been if those around had really observed the situation.

"GRANDPA!"

Finally, she spotted a face that might be helpful. Skidding to a stop in front of a rather curvaceous woman with reddish hair, Jacqueline almost knocked the woman over, which would have been a sight worth seeing if she hadn't been in such a hurry.

"Madame d'Aboville! Have you seen my grandpa?"

Madeleine looked down at the little girl and jumped a bit at the sight of the large violet eyes. Most people found them unnerving. Madeleine couldn't explain it. After all, they were just the eyes of a little girl, yet they weren't. An involuntary shiver went up her spine. She always got the feeling that if she stared to long into those twin pools of purple then the girl would have been able to see into her very soul.

Shaking off her superstitions, she smiled at her friend's daughter. Having completely missed the child's question, she began relating the latest news to the six year old who had no understanding and couldn't have cared less.

"Why Jacqueline, _Bonjour_ , is your mother around?"

Before the girl had a chance to respond she was cut off by the latest stream of gossip that Madame d'Aboville had gleaned. Jacqueline bit her tongue to keep from interrupting. She didn't have time for this stupid woman. She had to find grandpa!

"Did you hear my dear about the happenings in Paris?"

Jacqueline had the decency to shake her head. If Madeleine had paused for a moment she would have realized that most likely no six year old knew the happenings of Paris, but she was too far gone in the story to take that minor fact into account.

"Oh it is just horrible my dear, simply horrible, they have beheaded the king! Right in the streets! They say that it ran red with his blood!"

Jacqueline cringed at the sight her well-developed imagination created. But she quickly shook the image away. For, as interesting as that was, she still needed to focus on the problem at hand.

"Madame I…"

"Why when I heard I was so ill my darling Charles had to call for the physician."

Jacqueline returned that information with a blank stare. A dead king swimming in blood was much more interesting than her mama's friend's imagined illnesses. Trying to stay polite, she tried once again to ask her question.

"Madame have you seen…"

"Oh but not to worry about us, no, no, no. I hear the prince is amassing troops to guard our boarders from the revolutionaries."

The little girl curled her fists in frustration at being cut off yet again! She looked through a red haze as she tried to control her temper, but it was extremely difficult. This woman was no help at all, and she had to find grandpa! But she just couldn't run off because that would be rude.

 _Humph,_ she thought. _Being polite was a complete waste of time!_

"After all we have always governed ourselves, and being on the very edge of the kingdom they shouldn't trouble themselves with our little principality. Oh what I wouldn't give to see that handsome man preparing for battle. Yes 1793, this won't be a year soon forgotten. Mark my words," said Madeleine as she fanned herself.

What little patience Jacqueline possessed had run out, and she could taste blood from biting her tongue so hard.

"OH JUST FORGET IT!" She yelled, as she marched away from the useless older woman, a scowl that could turn milk on her face, showing resentment over that complete waste of time.

Madeleine stared after her in complete shock at her ill-mannered behavior.

Picking up her pace, Jacqueline continued her search.

At last, she spotted him standing in the middle of the street looking around with a frightened expression on his face, unable to recognize his surroundings.

"Grandpa!" He didn't respond to her so she pulled on his sleeve. Looking down at her there was no recognition in his face.

"Who are you?"

"…What?"

"Have you seen my daughter? I need to find her."

Jacqueline's heart sunk. It was one thing to be mistaken for mama but for him to forget her entirely was the most painful thing she had ever experienced in her young life. Holding back her tears she smiled as sweetly as she could.

"Yes I have, she's this way."

Taking him by the hand, she led him through the crowd.

"I don't know where she got to. She's about your age, and I _have_ to find her. Her mother will be so worried."

Jacqueline looked straight ahead, not betraying the horrible feelings of loneliness that increased with each step. She felt as if she had just lost her best friend, and the worst part was he didn't even remember her.

Suddenly, a blood curdling scream resonated through the village causing them to whip around in the direction of the sound. Tightening her grip on Maurice's hand, Jacqueline watched in terror as a large black stallion bucked wildly through the street knocking over carts and jerking about as if possessed by a demon.

Jacqueline's blood ran cold as she saw a young girl clutching to the back of the horse for dear life. Her cries for help echoing in her ears.

As the enormous beast kicked and beat the air with its powerful hooves its captive grasped at the main as she was thrown into the air again and again. Each time landing harder against the animals back then before, throwing her blond hair across her face.

She watched horrified as the horse threw the terrified rider once again into the air, sending her higher than ever before. This time her fingers lost their grip on the animal's mane. Frantically she clawed the air trying to regain her grasp, to no avail.

Landing with frightening force on the cobblestones below the poor girl was quickly trampled by the flashing hooves of the still crazed beast.

Jacqueline could hear her howls of pain as the girl's body broke under the brute force. Men were rushing about trying to contain the horse but she could still see her being torn apart through their many pairs of legs.

A rough hand spun Jacqueline around and she stared at a giant of a man. It was her father. His stern face watched the massacre before turning towards her. His hard blue eyes looked almost through her sending a shiver up her spine.

"Girl get your grandfather and go home!"

He stepped away and Jacqueline saw the sun gleaming off the rifle in his hand. She knew she should obey but her feet were frozen to the ground in terror.

"NOW!" he barked back at her and Jacqueline sprang into action.

Tugging at a now petrified Maurice she managed to coax him into running. As the two fled Jacqueline heard the sound of two gun shots behind them. Picking up the pace she pulled her grandfather all the way back to the house.

Pulling him threw the doorway with all her might she slammed the door closed. And then stood in front of it as if to barricade against attack.

"Jacqueline what's wrong...Papa!"

Maurice looked around the cottage wringing his hands, unable to articulate so deep was his shock at what they had just witnessed. Belle gently guided him to a chair and placed one of his small inventions in his hands. Lately Maurice had taken to dismantling and rebuilding the same object over and over again. He would sit like that for hours at a time only being drawn away if someone broke his routine.

The old man's shaking hands began to still as he slipped into the mindless task. Belle looked sadly away and returned her attentions to her daughter who still braced the door as if the devil himself was coming for her.

"Jacqueline what's wrong?"

The little girl was still to in shock to answer. Belle was concerned but decided that probing her would not be the best strategy. Instead she opted for distraction.

"Jacqueline go get little Gaston. I have something for the two of you."

Moving slowly as if waking from a bad dream she made her way to the back of the house in search of her brother. Upon finding him the two returned inside to see what their mother had planned.

Belle had them sit at the table as she retrieved a blue book from the mantle. The children's curiosity piqued immediately. That was mama's story book.

Often times during the evenings she would read to them from the pages, bringing magical places and people to life. Even papa couldn't escape its magic grasp. Gaston would pretend not to listen while his wife read but he could never fully escape the wonderful world her words created.

"Are you going to read us a story?" asked little Gaston

"No my darling, I am going to teach you to read."

The two children looked at each other in uncertainty. They loved having mama read to them but that was because apart of them believed she was the creator of those wonderful stories. To them the book was just a pointless prop. And neither found the idea of sitting still for lessons an appealing idea.

"But we must be quiet your brothers are napping upstairs."

Jacqueline's face wrinkled in disgust at the mention of her unwanted siblings. There were six of them now. Five boys and only one girl, her. After Jacques had come the twins Henri and Albert. They had just turned one. And about a month ago mama had had another baby, Pierre. Personally Jacqueline found each brother more annoying than the last (though none quite taxed her nerves like Gaston.)

She knew everyone else had been pleased with the new baby, but frankly Jacqueline felt it was getting a little crowded upstairs and they could all do with a little thinning in the ranks. (The main candidate up for elimination being Gaston.)

For the next hour both children were confined to the table while enduring the drudgery of their first reading lesson. Gaston quickly lost interest and amused himself by alternating between rocking his chair back and forth and complaining, until his sister wanted to cram the book down his throat just to get him to be quiet.

Jacqueline on the other hand was still to upset about the earlier happenings to pay close attention. Try as she might to concentrate she couldn't escape the sound of that girls screams as the horse trampled her. Belle noticed that her daughter veered between paying attention and being lost in her own thought so she released the two from bondage and watched as Gaston bolted for the door and Jacqueline walked very solemnly towards her favorite tree.

She wondered what could have happened to upset the child so…she didn't have to wait long for the answer.

For just then Gaston came through the door looking to be in a foul mood. Setting his rifle unceremoniously on the table he took a seat not noticing the book he had knocked to the floor in the process.

It was only mid-afternoon, Gaston was hardly ever home at this hour so his sudden appearance caused concern with Belle.

"Gaston?"

He didn't even look at her. Instead he absently petted the head of the hound pup he had given little Gaston on his last birthday. Already the animal was the size of a grown dog, with none of the good sense.

 _Outside,_

Jacqueline sat herself against the trunk of the large oak tree. Trying to hide in the safety of its protective shadow. Drawing her knees to her chest she tried to make herself as small as possible. Hiding from the image of what she had witnessed. Closing her eyes she tried to banish the sight of that poor girl being trampled by her horse.

A deep rooted fear took hold on the young girl. For as long as she lived she would never forget the complete terror of watching that girl being trampled to death. It would haunt her forever.

 _Back in the House,_

"Gaston what has happened?"

Sighing he raised hard eyes to hers. "The Chatelaine girl…"

"Adele? What about her?"

"She's dead…her horse went mad, trampled her underfoot. I shot the horse but it was too late."

Belle involuntarily clutched her throat in horror. "Poor thing…her poor parents."

Adele had been a sweet girl of only twelve. Belle remembered the day she was born, her parents had been so happy to have a daughter. As she had grown none could have found a more agreeable or dear child.

Though she would have never admitted it on occasion Belle had envied Adele's mother her well behaved, even tempered daughter. Qualities that Jacqueline was sadly lacking.

Tears welled in Belle's eyes at the thought of the beautiful golden haired girl who would never smile again.

 _What if it had been my child?_ She thought.

Maybe it was her unconscious desire the focus on anything besides the traumatizing news that made her willing to focus on any other possible distraction. Which came in by the sound of ripping paper.

She turned to see the forgotten story book being torn to shreds by the hound pup.

"NO!"

Quickly taking off her shoe she threw it at the dog who, relatively unfazed by the dainty slipper bounded out of the open door in search of more agreeable playmates.

Falling to the floor she scrambled to collect the shreds of paper. A few sections were salvageable but the book as a whole was ruined.

"NO!"

"What was that?"

"It was my book! You knocked it off the table and that MUTT ruined it!"

Gaston was annoyed at her apparent despair over such a trifling matter.

"Well why was it on the table?!"

"I was teaching the children to read…"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth Belle froze, and Gaston visibly stiffened. He had never had a problem with her reading to the children and technically he had never said anything against the idea of them learning to read. But that was probably because they had never discussed it at all.

"Why would they need that? Gaston should be learning how to hunt and track. Those are useful skills. And the girl should be learning how to take care of a husband. _Reading_ won't do her any good."

Turning to him her face shone with disbelief.

"What is wrong with you Gaston? Don't you understand? This isn't just a book, it is a way to visit places you could otherwise never see. It tells you stories of heroes you can admire and aspire to emulate."

"It's a waste of time!" He bit out venomously.

"WOULD YOU TAKE AWAY MY ONE ESCAPE?!"

Immediately she knew her mistake clamping a hand over her mouth trying to silence what had already been spoken.

Gaston's face hardened, growing dark with anger. Standing he toward above her as she remained kneeling on the floor. For what felt like an eternity they remained locked in each other's gaze. Hers pleading and fearful and his unforgiving.

Without speaking he stormed out of the house and disappeared into the outside world.

Belle buried her face in her hands as fear gripped her heart.

 _Don't you dare defy me again, or I will divorce you…and you will never see your children…again._ Gaston's words echoed in her mind.

Although he hadn't threatened her thus since that day Belle hadn't forgotten. She would never forget. And she had lived every day of her life since in fear that he would hold true to his words and take her children from her.

He could too. The law granted complete rights over children, business, and property to the husband. In the event of a divorce she would be left with nothing and no one to help her.

It was the thought of losing her children that had kept her silent and submissive these past two years. But now she feared that she had gone too far in angering him and her worst nightmare would be realized.

 _Why did I say it? Just a few words and he could take them away from me…WHY DID I SAY IT?!_

Oh she hated him! Hated him for the complete control he had over her. Hated how at every turn he seemed determined to cut away another small piece of her until there was nothing left to take! But most of all she hated that without him she would have nothing. He could take them away and she would never be able to hold her babies in her arms again.

Once again terror threatened to consume her. Still on her knees she silently begged God. Begged him to make Gaston forget! Forget what she had said and leave her with her children. She promised to willingly make no complaint of her life if he would prevent what she feared most.

Hours passed and still he didn't return. Belle cooked dinner and put the children to bed. She managed to get her father to eat and go to sleep. And then…she waited.

In front of the fireplace there were two chairs. One large and imposing showing strain from bearing the weight of its muscular owner. And the other a much small, simpler rocking chair. It was a deceptively cozy arrangement.

Taking a seat in the rocking chair Belle stared into the embers as she waited for Gaston to return. Too anxious to go to sleep.

When at last he did return it was not with loud stomping steps or harsh words like she expected. Instead the she watched as the large man made an effort (albeit clumsily) to walk softly across the floor. Trying not to wake the old man sleeping in the corner.

As he came into the soft light from the fire she searched his face for signs of anger or aggression. To her surprise he looked uncharacteristically calm, and almost anxious.

"Here" he said as he shoved a brown paper parcel into her hands.

"What's this?"

"Open it." He looked like a small boy waiting for his mother's approval.

Hesitantly she unwrapped the paper revealing a book, with a dark blue cover very similar to the one so recently destroyed.

Gaston scanned her face for a response when he didn't receive one he ventured forth some more information.

"It's a book! Like your last one. Blue, with stories."

Belle stared back in confusion. The man before her held no resembles to the man she had known these past 13 years. This man was attempting to right a wrong something her husband had never done.

She must not have looked very pleased because soon Gaston's expression returned to normal.

"What's wrong now?!"

"N-Nothing! Thank you Gaston."

"Well it's just like the other one Blue, with stories." Something about his voice sounded uncertain.

Kissing her briskly out of habit he left her by the fire and went upstairs to bed. Belle looked back at the book. Turning it over in her hands she read the title.

 _Astronomy through the ages._

Like a bolt of lightning realization hit.

 _Blue with stories…_

There was no denying that this book did look exactly like the previous one except for one flaw, the title. This was a book on astronomy not stories. But Gaston hadn't known the difference. Why?

 _Gaston can't read!_

Suddenly it all made sense, why he was so against books and why he didn't want his children learning to read. He was ashamed of his own ignorance and the only way he could think of to compensate was to believe whole heartedly that the skill of which he had been deprived was useless.

Gaston didn't want his children to read because he didn't want to be viewed as less in their eyes. For the first time since their marriage Belle felt pity for Gaston. She could never love him and would never forgive him. But for the rest of her days she would pity him, for having so little that he could not allow himself to realize what he had been robbed of.

She was still determined to teach her children to read. But she felt sorry (for once) for their fathers wounded pride. And reasoned that…

 _I can always teach them next year._

Sadly though she didn't intend it that _year_ moved farther and farther away until it never came at all.

Placing the peace offering on the mantle Belle joined her husband in sleep. Dreaming as she had every night for the past 13 years of a dark forest, with an intimidating castle, where a voice called out to her.


	7. Chapter 6: Goodbye

**Ok so I wrote this chapter while listening to Schindler's list's theme. (I know morbid but it was helpful.)**

 **So If any of you wonderful readers need help emotionally connecting to this chapter I recommend listening to it while you read. Here is the URL:** **/watch?v=2tcJLZt6Cnc on youtube**

 **It's long so you shouldn't have to worry about restarting it or anything.**

 **Once again thank you to all who have reviewed my story, I really appreciate it. Also sorry for Grammar issues and PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **Chapter 6: Goodbye**

 _1 year later_

Quietly, Jacqueline crept down the staircase, careful to miss that one step that creaked no matter how lightly you walked on it. It was much too late for a little girl to be up and about, but she couldn't sleep.

It was far too light out to sleep. Despite the extremely late hour the stars and moon were shining at their brightest, making it very difficult for the seven year old to slumber- not a dilemma shared by her brothers.

Since the arrival of Pierre, Jacqueline had been forced to relinquish her place in the large bed for a trundle on the floor. Not an entirely disagreeable arrangement, at least now she didn't have to fight Jacques for the blanket or get kicked in the back by a sleeping Gaston. And her new location did give a superb view of the stars through the odd crack in the celling that she hadn't been able to see before. Mama said that Papa was going to fix it soon before the snows came. But secretly, Jacqueline hoped it wouldn't happen and she could have her lovely view to herself all winter long.

She tensed as the floor boards groaned underfoot. Standing on her toes, she tried to be as light as possible in order to avoid awakening anyone and thus alerting them to her nocturnal activities. She couldn't explain what had possessed her to come downstairs but something told her to, and try as she might she just couldn't ignore it.

Coming round the corner she saw him. Sitting up in his bed, bathed in the pale blue moonlight streaming through the window.

For the past year he had sat in that bed. Not talking, not smiling. He didn't remember any of them, instead he was lost in a world they could not reach, and he couldn't understand. Jacqueline had watched silently as her mother had taken care of him. Dressing, washing, she even had to hold his spoon to his lips like an infant. She had never said a word, but inwardly she had wept for him, and herself. Oh how she missed him…her Grandpa.

She would talk to him sometimes, in the night like this. In total darkness she would creep downstairs and stand by the bed as the old man slept. She would talk to him then. No one else was around to hear, so she would pour out her little soul and all its troubles to the one who had once known her best but could no longer remember. But in those moments she could imagine that it was as it had been before. When he would tell her stories and show her inventions, giving her the attention she so craved, as she gave him the admiration he needed.

But she knew the truth, it wasn't the same and it would never be again. Tiptoeing to the edge of the bed, she saw that he was awake! And looking longingly out the window at the moon. When he turned to her his face lit up with joy. And for a shining, precious moment it was the same.

"Hello Jacqueline, bit late for you to be up isn't it?"

The dumbstruck child nodded her head as tears sprang to her eyes. Her grandpa hadn't spoken in a year and now he was speaking! And he was speaking to her!

Maurice smiled before turning his gaze back to the window. He was a very old man now, his size had shrunk to that of a child. His bony old frame seemed lost in the large bed. His skin drooped, sagged, and wrinkled as if pulled down by the weight of his years. His snow white hair was thin and sparse and his hazel eyes were dulled to his surroundings so much that he was practically blind.

"Did I ever tell you about your grandmother?"

Once again, Jacqueline shook her head.

Never looking away from the silver orb, he began his tale.

"Her name was Louise, and she was the prettiest girl in my whole village."

Jacqueline moved closer to the bed so as not to miss any of his quiet, hoarse words.

"She looked a lot like my Belle, your mama. And a little like you."

The little girl straightened at the thought of looking like her mother and the grandmother she had never known. It made her feel a part of the tale.

"I never knew what she saw in me." He chuckled a little before it turned into a light cough.

"She would walk by my father's farm every morning. I was always too afraid to talk to her." Another chuckle. "But that didn't put her off. Finally, she approached me, inviting me to the village dance. I was so nervous all I could do was nod. I thought for sure she would think I was dumb and never speak to me again, instead she smiled."

A sweet smile spread across his old face at the memory. Sighing he wearily laid back against the pillow as he continued. "Ah she was wonderful. And the most beautiful dancer. When she began to dance, all eyes were on her. I don't think even the angels would have dared to interrupt her."

Jacqueline watched as a weary sadness crept into his eyes and a single tear fall down his withered old cheek, getting lost in the wrinkles.

"I haven't seen her dance in many years…I miss her so…Oh Louise, why couldn't you have stayed with me?"

Jacqueline felt the world grow still and even the stars seemed to dim in sorrow for Maurice's long dead love. She watched as more silent tears rolled down the old man's cheeks. He made no sounds, no sobs of anguish or loss. Just an old sadness that fell without his consent or acknowledgment.

"I can still hear the music. Can you hear it Jacqueline?"

The little girl brushed her own tears away with the back of her hand.

"It is there, isn't it?" His voice was full of fear, begging her to tell him that Louise's song still played.

Looking back at the sweet old face Jacqueline nodded.

"Yes Grandpa, I can hear it."

A relieved smile formed on his sagging cheeks.

"Would you dance for me?"

Nodding once again, she moved to the middle of the rug so the moonlight from the window would make her as visible as possible for his dimming eyes. Lifting her arms into the air she twirled and bowed gracefully across the rug. Bending and swaying to the imaginary music with a natural grace and talent that most ballet dancers would have envied. She had a gift that until then hadn't been realized.

Closing his eyes, Maurice saw his beautiful wife dancing across the clouds, causing him to leave a lingering smile on his face. Even though his eyes closed, Jacqueline continued to dance just in case he should open them again.

She didn't know why, but after a long while she realized that they would never open again and she stopped.

No longer holding back the sobs, she walked to his bedside and took his cold hand in hers. Between hiccupping sobs she spoke.

"You don't have to wait anymore grandpa…you can dance with her now."

Sobbing she knelt on the floor burying her face in the covers allowing the soft fabric to soak up her tears. That is where she was found the next morning. Kneeling by his bedside hand still holding his, holding on for as long as she could.

 _After the Funeral,_

Belle wandered blindly. She didn't hear those around her, didn't see the path her feet took, all she knew was she had to get out of there. It was suffocating in that house. For hours people had come by and sat around in silence. She HATED that silence. What hurt most was the reason for it.

Some had come out of obligation, others with genuine concern. But the motives mattered little. They were her friends and neighbors; they should have comforted her, talked about the good times with her papa, shared their own stories of loss and allowed her to mourn.

Perhaps they had come to her house following the funeral with these intentions, but once again it hardly mattered. For all of them had sat in stone cold silence. None able to offer words of comfort or happy memories, because in their eyes Maurice had been an insane old man and they could only think of the ease brought to her life now that the worry of caring for him was over.

None of them knew him. They hadn't known the kind man who would do anything for a neighbor. Whose only concern in life was the happiness and safety of others. None had cared to take the time to get to know him, instead labeling him as crazy and viewing him through that lens alone.

What was even worse, was Maurice had never allowed their feelings towards him to color his treatment of them. (If he had ever even realized the extent of their prejudice.) They had laughed at him and mocked him for years. But still he had returned their scoffs with smiles. Always treating them with the kindness they denied him. And how was he repaid? They sat in silence.

Finally the quiet became so oppressive that she fled the cottage, leaving them all sitting there. She had run into the street and began to walk with no destination in mind.

 _How papa…how could you leave me…_

Tears flowed down her cheeks as the knowledge once again sat in that he was gone.

The black clad woman continued to wander until she found herself inside the church. Belle looked around the building not remembering having entered so deep had her thoughts been. She couldn't recall the last time she had been here. For although Belle had always believed in God she had never considered herself a very religious person, so it was difficult to remember the last time she had stood on this stone floor.

 _It must have been my wedding…no wonder I tried to forget…_

Truth be told everything about that day had been a blur for many years now.

The church was extremely old being the only building that still remained from the village's founding. Its exterior was simple, a reflection of the lives of those who worshipped within. But inside it was a different story. Though it could not compare with the ornate cathedrals of the rest of Europe it was none the less elegant, invoking a sense of reverence with its simple splendor.

Pulled by some unseen force Belle entered the building. It was abandoned so she made her way to the front. Listening the click of her shoes echo off the stone walls. Watching the colorful light from the stain glass dance across the floor.

Sitting down in a pew she wept.

 _Papa, I miss you so much…_

Belle didn't see the elderly Priest enter the sanctuary. Didn't notice him quietly approach with fatherly concern on his face.

"Child what is wrong?"

Belle looked up in surprise.

"I buried my father today…shouldn't I feel sad."

Placing a wrinkled hand on her shoulder he continued to look at her with understanding.

"Of course you should. But that is not all that troubles you."

She didn't know this man. The Priest who had performed her marriage had died long ago. And some young cleric had overseen her father's funeral. This old man was a complete stranger to her, but sometimes it is easier to share with a stranger than a friend.

Overcome with grief and the fresh emotions of loss Belle began to sob. The elderly friar sat beside her and allowed her her tears. Between the sobs she confessed everything to him. Something she had never done before to anyone…not even fully to herself.

She told him of her Papa. Of how she had married to keep him safe. Of her despair in her marriage, and that despite the many years love had not grown between them and likely never would. She spoke of her children and the losing fight of Gaston's influence over them. But mostly she poured out her feelings of loneliness especially now that the one person left who she felt truly cared was gone.

"Father I just feel so alone."

The Priest gave her a handkerchief to wipe her eyes and kindly held her hand.

"You have suffered much my daughter, but you have done great good too. You gave up your own happiness for your father's safety and you have honored your wedding vows. These are noble things that our heavenly father will not forget."

Belle continued to stare at the floor taking little comfort in his words. The Priest sighed before continuing.

"I know your life is hard, but you must believe me that one day God will bring it all to right. It may not be during our time on this earth but that doesn't matter because God's time is not our own. Your father lived a long life and he suffered much. But now his suffering is over and he is at peace. I know that you have lost him, but perhaps though we mourn the angels are celebrating. One day you will see him again but you can't give up now. Your children now need you as you once needed him."

Belle looked at the man. His mouth was hidden by a long white beard but she could tell by his eyes that he was smiling at her. There was a calming peace about him that she deeply envied.

"Father how can you have such faith? Why are you so at peace?"

The Priest motioned to the church surrounding them. "He gives me peace, trust in him child and he will give you strength to endure."

Leaving her the old man rose and walked away. Belle could hear the rustling sound of his robe as he walked. For the first time in many years she felt a sense of purpose in her life, and perhaps some peace. Yes she still missed her papa that feeling wasn't gone and it never would be. But he was free now from his pain. And she had children of her own who she loved and needed her.

Rising from her place Belle left the church and went home. Months later when Belle's baby was born she named him Maurice in honor of her papa. Not even Gaston argued.

 _That Night,_

Belle quietly opened the door peering at the sleeping children inside the room. Smiling she laid an extra quilt over the sleeping boys in the bed and kissed the foreheads of the twins who snuggled together for warmth. Turning to leave noticed the empty trundle where a seven year old little girl was supposed to be sleeping.

Careful to not wake anyone Belle made her way down the stairs. She found her daughter curled up in front of the fire. Sitting in her father's chair practically swallowed by its enormous frame.

The girl looked into the flames with those large violet eyes that were so full of confusion and sadness that it made Belle's heart ache.

Sitting in the rocking chair she sat her daughter on her lap (as best she could.) And the two sat staring at the fire in silence. Listening to the crackle of the burning logs and the squeak of the rocking chair as it swayed back and forth.

Jacqueline spoke first.

"I miss him mama."

Belle drew her arms tighter around her daughter holding her close.

"I know _ma Cherie_ , I miss him too."

There was nothing else to be said so they just sat together sharing in each other's grief. After a long time Belle spoke.

"Jacqueline, would you like to hear a story?"

The little girl turned her head towards her mother.

"Is it a true story?"

Belle thought about that for a while.

"…It may have been once…but now I think it was just a story…But some things are better as stories…then you can change the ending."

Jacqueline leaned her head back against her mama's shoulder safe in her loving arms. Belle began her tale.

"Once upon a time, in the forest, there was a dark castle, were lived a Beast…"


	8. Chapter 7: Control

**Chapter 7: Control**

 _2 years later_

Jacqueline struggled vainly in the grasp of the Butcher's huge hand as he marched her through the street with large strides that were much to long for the nine year old to keep up with. She experienced the odd feeling of weightlessness as he periodically lifted her off the ground in his haste. She quickly learned to keep her feet moving even while suspended in air to prevent tripping once he placed her back on the ground. She began coughing from the dust stirred up by his large blood stained boots but even that didn't slow him. She tried to hold her breath for as long as possible to keep from breathing in the dust and smell of sweat and blood emanating from her warden. But inevitably she found that the need for oxygen outweighed her noses offense.

The Butcher was a large man with a grizzly face and harry knuckles. His hands were rough and strong from wielding his large butcher's knife all day long. She knew this from the force by which he dug his fingers into her shoulder while pushing her through the front door of the cottage. Causing the unoffending door to bank loudly as it swung on its hinges from the force. Bringing startled looks to her parents who sat inside, staring questioningly at the interruption to their quiet afternoon.

Gaston sat in his large chair with his bandaged foot propped on a stool in front of him. LeFou had shot him in the foot during a drunken dare. The little imp was sufficiently apologetic but Gaston had thumped him on the head anyways. Since the incident he had been cooped up in the house recuperating. (And he wasn't a good patient.) The longer he remained caged the more difficult he became. He would gripe and complain none stop asking for something and then as soon as it was brought to him he would change his mind. There is nothing quite so hard as entertaining a grown child.

Through this ordeal Belle had quietly endured his frustrations and submissively weighted on him. So obedient had she become that no longer did her actions warrant any debate within herself. It made Jacqueline sick to witness her father abuse her mother in this way and she silently vowed that she would fight back against such injustice. Oh how brave are the young and unexperienced.

Although generally speaking most of the recent time spent between Belle and Gaston was strained (and downright tortures) this afternoon had actually been passed relatively pleasantly. Gaston, distracted from his invalid status was showering attention on his eldest son. Proudly showing him the finer points of a crossbow. While Belle prepared bread and their remaining sons played on the floor with the hound dog who attempted to nap lazily on the rug.

This pleasant picture was interrupted however by the unceremonious entrance of their eldest child being held aloft by a red faced and very angry man. He set her down (none to gently) before turning raged filled eyes to her parents.

Jacqueline angrily tried to shake off the man's grip before looking straight ahead. She would not give him the satisfaction of looking remorseful. Defiant to the end. Her eyes met those of her brother. Little Gaston smiled smugly from where he stood beside their father, showered in his approval and love. He knew that she had messed up again and gleefully awaited the verdict of her crimes. She glared back with complete and utter loathing at the two faced flea.

It wasn't fair! She was the eldest not him! But at every turn he was a source of pride and she disappointment. Gaston could do no wrong in papa's eyes. No matter how rudely he behaved or how lazy he became Gaston would continue to devote to the boy his unconditional praise. Even mama didn't see the true extent of his maliciousness. He always behaved better around her, and even though she wasn't blind to his nature like papa she was always preaching to Jacqueline to try and be kinder to her brothers and look out for them.

 _Why would I be kind to that Buffoon!_

Belle nervously approached the Butcher whose nostrils were still flaring with anger.

"Monsieur Leroy, what's going on?"

The man ignored her and continued to glare furiously at the little girl.

"Leon what's the meaning of this?!" Gaston barked from his chair.

The man finally released his gaze from Jacqueline and turned it to her father. Pointing an accusing finger at the nine year old he addressed his friend.

"Your Girl Gaston, has been spreading lies throughout the village! She told a group of children that I KILLED Old Monsieur Julien and he was HANGING IN THE BACK OF MY SHOP! I caught six of them back there looking for the body!"

Belle quickly put a hand over her mouth. The Monsieur continued.

"And then she told MY SON that I had killed his twin brother at birth and sold him to Madame d'Aboville for her dinner! My wife still hasn't calmed him down, he thinks he is next!"

Belle looked with horror at her daughter.

"JACQUELINE HOW COULD YOU DO THAT!"

The little girl's chin rose in the air refusing to be ashamed of her actions (though inwardly she hated the sound of disappointment in her mother's voice.) Gaston however leaned forward in his chair a scowl on his face as he stared with irritation at his seemingly ever-present, unwanted daughter.

"Don't worry Leon I will handle this."

The Butcher was still so enraged that he couldn't speak. Instead he nodded curtly and left the cottage slamming the door behind him.

A painful silence settled on the room as Gaston continued to glare at her. Belle began to nervously wring her hands glancing between her husband and daughter uncertain of what course of action she should take.

"Boys get out."

Immediately a flailing of limbs rushed for the back door as Jacques, Albert, and Henri made their escape. All too eager to avoid involvement in the storm that was about to ensue. But none wished to miss the sentencing of their only sister so they all slyly listened through the door. (Not that they needed to Gaston had never been one to lower his voice.) Mama picked little Maurice off the floor and Pierre hid behind her skirt, even he knew something was about to happen.

Not surprisingly Little Gaston didn't leave his perch beside papa's chair, he was practically immune to papa's rage. An almost gleeful smile on his face at the thought of his sister's oncoming punishment. Oh she hated him.

Gaston ignored his son's disregard of orders and rose from his chair. Balancing his weight carefully on his injured foot.

 _Good grief he's tall!_ Jacqueline thought as her papa towered over her.

"NO MORE!" Gaston yelled.

Fear curled in Jacqueline's stomach as she listened to her father's shouting voice. Her legs trembled under her body as she felt his anger rise.

"DO YOU HEAR ME? NO MORE!"

"Gaston I am sure she didn't mean any harm…"

"QUIET WOMAN!"

Belle took a tentative step back her resolve wearing thin. Years of giving in had caught up with her, but still she tried to soften his rage.

"Gaston please she is…"

"NO BELLE! This is the third slander she has spread throughout town! And I will not have MY good name be dragged through the dirt by a disrespectful CHILD!"

Technically it was the fifth if you included when she claimed Madame Claudia was a witch or the time she told all the children that there were goblins living in the forest. But Jacqueline didn't think it would be beneficial to her health to bring up that little fact.

"GASTON SHE IS YOUR DAUGHTER!"

"I didn't do anything to you!"

Both adults turned from each other and looked at their daughter in surprise. Jacqueline was also surprised at her outburst. But she was so consumed with the desire for her father's love and approval that she couldn't stand him accusing her of more disappointing actions. Besides she hadn't hurt him why should he care? There was nothing she hated more than being falsely accused.

"That is where you are wrong little girl! And I am going to make SURE that you learn this lesson, and remember it!"


	9. Chapter 8: Why?

**Guess Who's BACK!**

 **Sorry for the leave of absence but I was traveling and couldn't bring my computer.**

 **Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story.**

 **Please REVIEW! and Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 8: Why?**

Jacqueline rubbed her backside as she fought back tears.

 _I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry I just WON'T!_

She stumbled as she exited the house but managed to regain her footing. Her father was of the opinion that sparing the rod would spoil the child in her case. So he applied the rod liberally and effectively. Upon entering the patch of grass behind the house she was met by a most unwelcome sight. Her brothers Gaston. Jacques, Henri, and Albert were waiting for her.

 _Perfect._ She thought as she approached them.

Jacques snickered while Gaston smiled evilly at his sister. The twins weren't fully aware of what was going on but knew it was going to be interesting.

"Out of my way!"

Gaston stepped closer out of spite.

"You only got what you deserved."

Jacqueline glared at him, she could already feel her temper boiling to the surface and the last thing she needed was to get into more trouble.

" _Get out of my way GASTON!_ "

Her brother lost a little of his nerve and stepped back. After all the memory of her pushing him into a cold stream was still fresh in his mind. But papa was inside and he knew that gave him the upper hand. Smiling boldly he decided it would do her good to be knocked down a peg or two.

"You can't do anything to us Jacqueline because papa is inside and he will give you the beating of a lifetime. Maybe he'll get tired of you always messing up and send you away!"

The boys laughed with hateful glee at the idea of being rid of her forever.

Jacqueline watched their insufferable faces as their laughter rang in her ears. Oh she despised them. HOW DARE THEY MOCK HER!

"YOU RAT!"

The laughter stopped as she raised her hand to slap little Gaston across the face. She wanted to wipe that smile of his face and rub some dirt in it for good measure. He was an annoying little twit and she was tired of it.

They all froze as a hand stopped Jacqueline's from making contact with her brother's fat cheek. Fear shot through her body as she felt the cold fingers encircle her wrist. She braced herself for the slap that was sure to come.

"Boys go back inside."

The relief was so great that Jacqueline's legs nearly gave out underneath her as she heard her mother's voice. The boys didn't jump at her command like they had for their father but never the less they obeyed albeit sluggishly leaving the two standing alone under the large oak tree.

Wounded pride rising to the surface Jacqueline jerked her arm free from her mother's grasp. Belle didn't fight her and allowed her the distance of a few feet as her daughter marched with head high to the base of the tree.

Approaching less dramatically Belle spoke gently knowing all too well that harsh demands would do more harm than good. Something she was unable to convince her husband of.

"Jacqueline why did you tell the other children those horrible things?"

Belle watched her daughter's posture become even more rigid. Silently refusing to acknowledge her errors.

 _Just like her father._ Belle thought remorsefully. Try as she might she just couldn't seem to make her understand the obstacles she was creating for herself by being so obstinate. A small part of her acknowledged that she had inherited some of that trait from herself. But Belle had learned many painful years ago that persuasion and patience were much more useful tools then defiant obstinacy. And she wished to spare her little girl the difficult lessons she had learned.

"You knew those things weren't true… Darling you _know_ it is wrong to spread lies."

Jacqueline turned swiftly to face her mother fresh tears welling up in her eyes. Hurt and confusion evident on her face. Unceremoniously she threw herself at her mother, wrapping her arms around her waist and sobbing into her apron.

Belle stroked her chestnut hair whilst trying to calm her down.

" _Shhhhhhhh,_ it's alright. _Shhhhhhhhh,_ it'll be ok."

Between hiccups she spoke. Her mother straining to hear through the muffling of her apron.

" _I-I just…(sniff) w-w-want… to climb that tree… a-and never… come… back… down!"_

The child continued to cry while her mother hugged her close. When her tears subsided Belle pulled her to stand before her. Kneeling down in the dirt she looked her daughter in the eye.

"Jacqueline, why did you lie?"

"I didn't mean to lie. I was just telling stories…like you do."

" _Like I…_ "

"I just wanted to make things more interesting, I didn't mean to lie."

"Oh my dear…the stories I tell you aren't real. _None_ of them are real…they are just stories about made up people and their imaginary lives… But the butcher is real…the people in the village are real…and the stories you told about them weren't true…and they have caused a lot of trouble and hurt."

For the first time Jacqueline felt a twinge of shame for what she had done and didn't meet her mother's gaze. Belle was sole person alive who could make her see the error of her ways and regret them. If for no other reason than the love she held for her mother and a desire to make her proud.

"You have a remarkable gift Jacqueline. Your imagination can do incredible things, but like all gifts you must be careful in how you use it otherwise you will cause pain to those around you. Do you understand?"

"Yes mama."

Belle smiled gently, but then her brow creased in thought and she took the little girl by the shoulders and became uncharacteristically stern.

"Jacqueline you must promise me something."

She nodded.

"You must be careful in what you tell others, especially your papa. He does not have your gifted imagination and I am afraid can't understand. It will do you no good to incur his anger. Hold your tongue and bide your time."

Once again she nodded. "I'll try mama."

"But you must also promise to never forget how to imagine. You are a clever girl, use that…who knows, one day, it just might save your life."

 _Castle in the Forest_

Cogsworth and Lumiere paced back and forth in the hallway. How many times had they found themselves here Lumiere wondered. Neither of them spoke, there was nothing to say. They simply waited.

The click of a door opening made the two older gentlemen turn to face the large stately double doors of the Master's chambers. The doctor exited quietly closing the door behind him. When a fat hand he motioned the two servants to follow him down the hallway. They complied and the trio made their way a safe distance down the hall in order to speak without fear of being overheard.

"What iz your diagnosis Monsieur doctor?" (Lumiere)

The doctor shook his head as he removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of is nose. His exhaustion in the situation evident.

"I can find nothing wrong."

"Are you insinuating that the master is faking?" (Cogsworth)

"No the problem is very real there is no doubt about that. He weakens more every year, but I can find nothing physically wrong with him. How can I treat something that isn't there?"

"Please, it has been 16 years I cannot bear to see him remain in such agony." (Cogsworth)

The portly old butler had watched the Prince struggle for years without complaint. But with every passing year he grew worse, and it was killing all of them to watch without being able to help.

"I have done all that I can. Even the medication to dull his pain no longer has any effect. I am truly sorry gentlemen…but there is nothing I can do."


	10. Chapter 9: Family

**Ok so ALOT happens in this chapter...someone suggested I make the chapters longer so I hope this is long enough.**

 **Please, Please, Please REVIEW! Even if you don't like the story, tell me what I should fix...I really want to improve this story and your feedback is my best tool...thank you!**

 **Chapter 9: Family**

 _2 months later_

The Priest continued his sermon, the words falling on his audience like hail. It was a Sunday, oh how the children deplored Sundays. There they sat fourth pew from the front (apparently you were closer to God there.) The Priest stood in the pulpit towering above them like an angry storm cloud. He wasn't the regular speaker, no he was a younger much more zealous incarnation recently arrived from Rome with a desire to cleanse the countryside of its wickedness and vice. So far he had only managed to bore his captives to tears.

Of their many struggles during Gaston and Belle's married life religion had been one in which Belle had won with relative ease. If anything Gaston gave in almost willingly to Belle's ever increasing religious devotion. After all it was very befitting if not admirable to have a devout wife. And having her raise his children in such a redeeming light reflected well on his standing within the community. One point he was not on board for however was his involvement in the whole process. Prayers were for women and children, not for men!

He had flat out refused to join them in going to mass or any other ceremony that would take him away from his precious tavern. As a result the "Happy Couple" had the most heated argument of their domestic career. Conviction aren't easy too bully away and Belle wasn't giving up hers without one hell of a fight. Belle was no fool she knew her children and if their father presented an uninvolved front then she would never be able to convince them of the merits of religion.

She had felt utterly alone after the death of her beloved papa. Like a boat that lost its tether, she felt she would drift away. God had become her new comfort, her strength, as he often does for the weary and oppressed. It gave her a peace she hadn't felt in years. And she wished to share her new found meaning to life with her family, fight it as they may.

Gaston had fought tooth and nail, but Belle's powers of persuasion proved the superior in this (rare) instance. So there they sat one _happy_ family. They took up the whole row.

First Belle on the inner isle, her face glowing with a holy interest. On her lap sat two year old Maurice, finding his thumb a far more interesting entertainment then the scary bald man on the pulpit. Sitting next to his mother was three year old Pierre who had backed himself as far into the wooden seat as he could manage. His eyes large with fear as the Priest shouted and ranted from on high, sending the fear of God right into the little boy's soul. Next four year old Albert, who was busy attempting to carve the likeness of a bear into the back of the pew in front of them. Then nine year old Jacqueline, who had been charged with the task of keeping the twins from each other's throats for the remainder of the service. She had no tolerance for the incomprehensible boredom of sitting for what felt like eternity listening to this stupid man! She also was making no attempt to conceal her contempt. Arms crossed with a scowl on her face that could kill if the intended recipient bothered to make eye contact with her.

Next to her lounged four year old Henri who had fought the urge of sleep valiantly for a little boy, but he had finally succumbed. He was drooling down his shirt as he leaned against his sister's shoulder, who kept trying to elbow him off but he was a hard sleeper. Six year old Jacques sat next to Henri and was attempting to make him sneeze by tickling his nose with a feather he found on the floor. That is until his sister noticed what he was doing and smacked the feather out of his hand. A sleeping Henri was far less irritating then an awake Henri. That however resulted in a silent fight of impromptu sign language between the two that wound up waking up the four year old anyway. Which in turn became a three way slap fest.

The other worshipers began to take notice as small hands flew and insults were hissed. Belle whispered for the children to be quite but they took no notice. They finally stopped as each experienced the dull pain of a slap in the back of the head. Gaston Sr. reached his large hand across the row and gave each a solid whack that managed to achieve a cease fire.

Little Gaston smirked at his siblings from his seat next to papa. Gaston Sr. place his hand proudly on the eight year old's shoulder who's back strained under the excessive weight. With the fiasco concluded both Gaston Sr. and little Gaston's faces returned to twin pictures of resentful boredom.

At last the Priest concluded! The congregation was dismissed and the children bolted like freed horses. Racing out the door to play in the sunshine that had been calling to them. Gaston dutifully offered his wife a hand as she stood balancing Maurice on her hip. Once on her feet his hand dropped back and the two exited the church in icy silence. There was little between them save duty, even on Gaston's part. He had finally realized that there clashing personalities could never harmoniously coexist. Belle would never truly be the wife he wanted, just as he had been unable to match even her low expectations. (Though he was unaware of this and continued to believe that she had disappointed him and not the other way around.)

Their marriage continued of course, it was simply what was done. Even unpleasant habits tend not to break. Once outside he marched towards his tavern (his true love.) His ownership of it had resulted in his being the wealthiest person in the village. Not that you would have known that from the way his family lived. In Gaston's mind his money was his. He never thought of sharing it with his wife.

As he walked away Belle watched him go. Wondering if he would look back, knowing he wouldn't. Taking Pierre by the hand she walked towards the cottage. She wasn't even sure if she cared.

The rest of Belle's children ran free and wild for the remainder of the day. Running through the village with their friends, playing games and getting into mischief. It was glorious. As the sun set they made their trek back home. Jacqueline's friend Josephine (Sef) walked with her most of the way. Her house was the closest to theirs so she could spare the time without being too far from her mother's call.

Jacqueline liked Sef well enough. She didn't talk too much which she appreciated. Jacqueline didn't get along with most of the other children. Not so much because they didn't like her. She had confidence and the air of a natural leader. The other children flocked to her like hens to corn. But she found them irritating and dull. Most of the other little girls struck her as dim witted and far too giggly. The boys weren't much better though it was fun to beat them in a races. Sef though was the exception. She genuinely enjoyed her company. She was clever and funny when she volunteered her opinion. And best of all Sef could keep her mouth shut. Many were the times that she had been Jacqueline's accomplice, and a listening ear when life became too overwhelming.

As they neared Sef's house she could hear the girl's father's gruff voice yelling her name into the street. Jacqueline saw the fear in her friend's eyes as she froze in the street. Once again her name echoed through the village. Yet still she didn't move. Sef's brown eyes were the size of saucers, filled with dread. Jacqueline put a protective arm around her friend's shoulder.

"You don't have to go Sef…you can come to my house."

Her friend shook her head no but once again failed to move. The street flooded with light as the front door to Sef's cottage opened. A fat shadow filled the light as her father stood menacingly in the doorway.

"JOSEPHINE! Get in HERE!"

Finally she moved. Jacqueline watched as her friend walked with trepidation towards her house. Jacqueline looked at Sef's father with pure hatred as he slammed the door behind them. Despite how unfair her life could be Jacqueline knew it was nothing compared to Sef's.

She wished she could march up those stairs and punch that man in the face! But she couldn't, so she went home.

 _That Evening_

Belle sat in her rocking chair holding a sleeping Pierre in her arms. Around her feet were cluttered the joys of her heart, her children. Little Gaston lounged in his papa's chair as if he were king of some great realm. Henri and Albert lay on the floor resting their elbows on a pillow they had brought from upstairs. Jacques was leaning against the hound dog that slept in front of the fire. Maurice was sleeping upstairs and Jacqueline sat on the rug with her legs crossed, leaning on her arms hanging on her mother's every word. Belle was telling them the story of Joseph and his brothers, and she was about to get to the best part.

"And Joseph's brothers fell to their knees! Fear coursing through their limbs…Joseph was alive? Was he angry? What would he do to them?"

"Is he going to kill them?" Jacques asked, only to be shushed by his brothers and sister. While one of them (he didn't know which one) thru the pillow at his head.

"No…he brought them and their families to Egypt so they could survive the famine."

"And then Moses came!" Announced Albert who was also quickly shushed.

Belle chuckled. "Yes but that is a story for another time. Now off to bed all of you."

"Aww! Please just one more!"

"No it far past time you were all asleep."

They knew arguing was futile (but that didn't mean they were suddenly happy about it.) One by one they filed past their mama. Kissing her goodnight before heading up the creaky stairs to the room they all shared.

Jacqueline was the last up. She liked being last, it made her feel like the last moments with mama were all hers. Well except for Pierre but he was asleep so that didn't count. Once upstairs the small bedroom was a flurry of relatively hushed activity as they all prepared for bed. Maurice was already asleep in his cradle and it would do none of them any good to wake him. So they were attempting to be as quiet as they could be crawling into bed. The squeaky floor wasn't helping but luckily they all seemed to genetically be hard sleeping, Maurice included.

Two relatively small beds sat at either ends of the room. In the one on the left slept Henri, Albert, and Pierre. Maurice's cradle was at the foot of the bed. In the one on the right was Gaston and Jacques. Jacqueline's trundle lay between the two so she was always the last in bed.

As they laid down the normal half asleep whispered chatter began to arise.

" _Albert, move your foot!_ "

" _I will once you give me the blanket._ "

" _I can't Pierre fell asleep on it._ "

" _Well kick him off!_ "

" _I can't he's too heavy, you do it!_ "

" _Shut UP both of you!_ "

" _You SHUT UP!_ "

" _Gaston you're on my side!_ "

" _Your side?! This is MY BED!_ "

" _EVERYONE BE QUIET!_ "

" _Stay out of this Jacqueline!_ "

" _Ya, or we'll throw you down a well and sell you like Joseph!_ "

(Muffled laughter)

" _Ugh! You're all fools!_ "

Suddenly the sound of the creaking door interrupted them. Immediately all pretended to be asleep while simultaneously peeking through covers to see which parent was checking on them. As soon as they could make out the heavy boots of their father little eye lids snapped shut.

"Quiet all of you!"

The door closed, Jacqueline rolled over on her side. Closing her eyes she attempted to control her dreams by imagining the story she wanted her self-conscious to finish.

" _It's still my bed._ "

" _SHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!_ "

 _1 year later_

"Madame…Madame Gaston, can you hear me?"

Belle struggled to open her eyes. They felt heavy, like lead. Oh she was tired…so very tired.

"Madame?"

 _Just go away! Please, let me sleep…_

"BELLE!"

The faint sound of a baby's cry reached her through the fog, it was soft and thin, like a reed flute.

 _A baby? Whose baby is that?_

It took all her energy but somehow she managed to open her eyes. She looked into the concerned eyes of an elderly man. It took a while for her muddled mind to piece together who he was.

"Madame, do you know who I am?"

She tried to nod but when her head wouldn't comply she tried to answer instead. But the words came out hoarse and soft, the man had to lean his ear next to her mouth in order to hear her.

" _Bonjour, doctor._ "

A relieved smile formed on his face, but it was short lived. Belle wondered what was going on. What happened to that baby who was crying?

 _Baby...That's right I was having a baby!_

Her anxiety rose as memories came flooding back. She was having a baby! That had been her baby crying…why did it stop crying? What was wrong? Where was her baby?!

With new strength she tried to sit up, only to be held down with very little difficulty by the midwife standing beside her bed.

"Don't worry Madame, your son is alright."

Relief flood through her as she willingly gave up the struggle and laid back against the pillow.

 _Another boy? Gaston will be pleased…_

A second midwife came into view, this one was younger Belle didn't remember seeing her before. In her arms was a small bundle in a white blanket. The bundle looked too small to be a baby…

The midwife laid the bundle beside her and Belle lifted a hand to pull back the blanket so she could see him.

He was small…much too small. His hands were perfectly formed but tiny. She watched his little chest rise and fall, laboring for every shallow breath. He looked so fragile it broke her heart. Belle was gripped with a fear that at any moment he would stop breathing in her arms.

"I know he is small, but he really is a good size for being so early. I have every reason to believe he will live." The doctor said.

She nodded trying to ignore the tears of uncertainty in her eyes.

" _Merci._ "

The midwife took the baby away to warm him by the fire downstairs and to present him to his father. Belle gave him to her unwillingly but knew it would be warmer downstairs. Once she had left the doctor turned his attention back to Belle.

"Madame, you cannot have any more babies."

Belle stared at him blankly.

"I mean it, you were extremely lucky this time. Extremely lucky."

Still she stared blankly no understanding visible on her face.

"Please listen to me, eight children is enough for any woman…no more!"

Belle looked at the doctor not knowing what say.

 _Yes Monsieur, eight children are enough for any woman…but what about her husband?_

 _3 months later_

Jacqueline struggled to carry the water bucket to the large wash tub. Water sloshed down her dress as she poured it in. After two such trips she decided there had to be an easier way. Belle watched her study it for a while before coming up with a plan. Belle chuckled as she watched her daughter bolt back into the house to retrieve the broom. Placing two buckets on either end of the broom she laced the handle through the bucket handles. Next she proceeded to fill two buckets with water, placed the broomstick over her shoulders and carry it to the tub. Filling it twice as fast with half the struggle.

A bitter sweet smile spread across Belle's face as she watched.

 _Just like papa._

Truth be told she was quite surprised that Jacqueline was being so helpful. There were few things that her daughter loathed as much as housework. It wasn't that she was lazy, it was just that she couldn't stand the mind numbing repetitive tasks that were associated with "women's work." As a result she often rushed through her tasks and left them half done or genuinely was unaware of how to do them correctly because she couldn't stand still long enough to learn. But today was a day for miracles…and washing clothes.

The sunshine shone brightly as the pair hung the clothes on the line. Half way through the chore the sound of a baby's cry sent Belle bolting into the house to tend to baby Louis. Jacqueline watched her through those large violet eyes.

Louis wasn't as strong as most babies but his lungs seemed fine as far as Jacqueline could tell.

Using mama's leave of absence as an excuse Jacqueline began to climb the large oak tree. She loved to climb and every time she managed to climb higher than before. Depositing herself on the highest branch she could reach with confidence she swung her legs astride the branch and watched the people crossing the street below.

Madame d'Aboville crossed swiftly with a basket of apples on her arm.

 _Off to spread gossip no doubt._

Next went the tailor his arms piled high with bolts of cloth. Papa's friend LeFou could be seen in the distance carrying an oversized rifle.

 _Papa's no doubt…_

Her friend Sef walked by along with that twit Charles. Sef had eyes for him, Jacqueline thought him nice enough but she found him a bit too dull for her tastes. But the boy worshipped Sef and followed her around like a puppy. She was too kind to take advantage of him but Jacqueline would never have tired of sending the boy to do menial tasks.

Mama had come back outside and was calling her name but Jacqueline ignored her. She had never been much of one for guilt and the day was far too beautiful to be wasted on laundry. Eventually mama gave up her search and went back to work.

Jacqueline continued to watch the street. A small crowed was gathering by the fountain in the square. Strain as she might she just couldn't see what the main attraction was. Curiosity got the better of her so she swung down and landed gracefully in the street below. Scurrying before she got caught sneaking off she made her way towards the crowd.

Weaving her way through arms and legs she managed to fight her way to the center and see what all the excitement was about. What she found was the most exciting thing her young heart had ever experienced. ACROBATS!

Two handsome Gypsy boys were flipping through the air with the greatest of ease to the applause of their audience. She watched fascinated as they flew through the air, doing somersaults and back flips.

When the gypsy boys had finished a woman took center stage. She was beautiful with dark skin and brown eyes. From somewhere a guitar began to play as she bent and swayed to the rhythm of the music. Leaping and twirling like a top!

Jacqueline watched fascinated as the woman's feet moved with the speed of lightning. As the music picked up speed so did the dance until she was spinning so fast her dress fanned out around her in a continuous circle of color.

Jacqueline decided right then that she wanted to learn how to dance like this fascinating enchantress and began to practice whenever a free moment presented itself. No longer did she walk anywhere, instead she danced up and down the street while on her mama's errands. She spun as she swept floors, and she practiced her new techniques and routines for the amusement of the passerby's on the street. She already had a natural talent, but now it was combined with unrelenting focus and a creative mind. The result? Jacqueline became the best dancer that any in her small village had ever seen. And if she had ever taken the opportunity to leave she would have gained fame that would have exceeded France itself.

 _2 year later_

"LEAVE HIM ALONE EUGENE!"

"Stay out of this Jacqueline!"

"I will not! You insulted my brother!"

"HE STOLE MY APPLE!"

Jacqueline rounded on Henri and looked him strait in the eye.

"Did you?"

"No!"

Jacqueline turned back around.

"There you have it, now apologize!"

"I WON'T! He is lying and you know it!"

The truth was Henri probably was lying but that wasn't the point in question. It was a matter of family honor. Jacqueline didn't care for her brother, but she cared for Eugene d'Aboville even less. She had come upon the scene with Eugene accusing Henri of stealing his apple and threatening to give him a black eye. Now she was all for teaching Henri a lesson, but only she could beat up her brothers, no one else. So here she was defending the Rat!

"You don't even like your brothers Jacqueline!"

"True but I like you even less!"

"Well I am not apologizing."

"Yes you are!"

"NO!"

"DO IT!"

"NO!"

Purple fire flashed in her eyes as her hand clenched into a fist. Next thing anyone knew Eugene was laying on his back with blood pouring from his nose. The crowd of children that had gathered stared in shock.

Jacqueline shook her hand to try and lessen the throbbing that had resulted from the blow she had delivered.

"SAY YOUR SORRY EUGENE!"

Instead of doing as she commanded the big cry baby let out a scream that could wake the dead. The other children covered their ears as they ran away from the adult that was sure to show up at any moment.

 _Cowards._ Jacqueline thought.

Just then a hand pushed her out of the way as a flurry of skirts rushed by. Madeleine d'Aboville knelt down by her still wailing son.

"MY DARLING! What has happened?"

Madame d'Aboville clutched Eugene to her voluptuous chest and practically smothered him. She only released him after he screamed from the pressure put on his still bleeding nose.

"What have you done!?" Madame yelled accusingly at Jacqueline

"Taught your brat a lesson!"

"Savage!" Eugene bit out at her.

Jacqueline lunged at him ready to do even more damage but was stopped by Madame. Jacqueline was tall for her age but rather scrawny so she was unable to put up much of a fight against the much larger Madeleine d'Aboville!

Taking her by the back of the neck Madame marched her towards her house whilst Eugene followed behind still sniffling while holding a handkerchief to his face. As they walked it began to rain, and by the time they arrived at the cottage it was pouring.

The door banged open as Madame d'Aboville pushed her through the door. Belle jumped at the sound. Jacqueline saw through clumps of wet hair that Henri and Albert had managed to beat them home and were already relaying the details to papa who sat in his chair.

"I trust you will take care of this!" Madame announced as she pushed the child into the room and then slammed the door behind her as she left. Eager to have the doctor examine her poor Eugene's nose.

Jacqueline shivered as she looked at papa's stern face. For the first time that day she felt fear (but not regret.)

Gaston motioned for her to stand before him. She slipped slightly on the floor as she made her way to stand before the mammoth chair where her father glared down at her. Henri and Albert were standing to the side with large grins on their faces, while little Gaston stood (as always) at their papa's side.

"What happened?" Gaston asked

Jacqueline was shocked that she was being invited to speak and decided to make the opportunity count.

"Eugene said Henri was a thief and liar so I taught him a lesson." Her chin rose with pride.

"What did you do?" Gaston asked

She hesitated looking at mama and then back, before deciding that she still did not regret her actions, no matter what happened.

"I broke his nose."

There was complete silence. For what felt like eternity Papa's eyes bore into hers, looking at her with an expression she could not identify. To her utter surprise a large grin spread across his face followed by laughter.

Everyone looked on in complete shock as Gaston laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks in mirth.

"Jacqueline you are a wonder!"

Gaston continued to chuckle as he patted her head in affection. Jacqueline's heart sored with the praise. At last she was being acknowledged, and NOT for her short comings!

"Tell me daughter did you make him cry?"

"GASTON!" Belle exclaimed looking at her husband in horror.

"What?"

"This kind of behavior should not be encouraged."

"What do you mean!? She was defending the family honor! She's my daughter what do you expect? Madeleine coddles the boy, if anything Jacqueline did her a favor!"

"You can't be serious!"

"I most certainly am! Jacqueline my girl I am proud of you!"

Little Gaston looked on in shock at the attention being shown his sister. His mind simply didn't know how to process such an unprecedented moment.

For one shining moment she had what she always wanted. Her father's undivided attention. Unfortunately it was an occasion that was not likely to repeat itself.

 _1 years later_

Belle stood terrified at the edge of the dark forest. She hadn't gone near it in 20 years, but she had walked aimlessly and now found herself staring into the pure darkness beyond its edge.

She was so scared, what was going to happen? Slowly she sat on the wet grass. The dew from early morning had not yet evaporated. Drawing her knees to her chest she looked without seeing at the ground before her.

 _No more babies…No more babies…No more…but there will be one more…what will happen? What about my children?_

Tears filled her eyes, she hadn't had a choice. What was she going to do?

 _There is nothing you can do…Dear God help me!_

She was pregnant…and she was terrified.

 _7 months later_

Jacques struggled to free himself from his mother's embrace.

"MAMA!"

Belle smiled and kissed him on the forehead before releasing him from her embrace. The ten year old wiped her kiss away with the back of his hand. Belle smiled and playfully pushed him out the door to play. Jacques joined the rest of his brothers and sister out in the snow and the pack took off to enjoy the magic of the snow covered village.

Belle watched them disappear into the distance laughing as twelve year old Jacqueline dragged three year old Louis through the snow.

Peace and quiet was a rare thing for her, she wasn't entirely sure what to do with herself.

Deciding some socializing with adults would be a pleasant change of pace she put on her hat and coat and grabbed her basket.

As She walked through the village, her heart grew heavy when she passed the closed up book shop, but she put it out of her mind. After all when was the last time she had a chance to read? She continued to walk as a light dusting of snow began to fall, the whole scene was magical.

She entered the tailor's shop and began to look around at the various fabrics. Pierre would need a new suit of clothes soon.

"Ah Madame Gaston, is there anything I can help you with?"

Belle smiled kindly at the tailor but shook her head.

"No thank you, when I find something I like I will let you know."

The Tailor nodded and scurried off to attend to other customers.

As Belle examined a stack of dyed wool she couldn't help but overhear two women behind her who were deep in conversation and apparently oblivious to her presence.

"I can't believe it! I mean the scandal! Can you imagine such a thing?"

"I know." Replied the second.

"Her husband has sent her away…of course you cannot blame the man, it was the only fitting thing to do."

"So what will become of Paulette now?"

"Well her sister has taken her in, Laurette."

"Is she the one who wears the red dress?"

"No you fool that's Claudette, Laurette wears the amber dress."

"I thought Paulette was the one in amber?"

"No she is the one who wears the green dress. Good heavens Elisabeth don't you pay attention to anything?"

"Well I can't help it after all they are triplets! But wait isn't Laurette married? What does her husband think of this?"

"Yes well you know that Philippe is a saint who would do anything she asked of him. Besides their farm is a ways from the village and very out of sight. It would be the most seemly place for her."

"tsk, tsk, tsk, I just can't believe it Margarita. I mean to be carrying another man's baby."

"And a married man at that."

"Really? You know I never did learn who the father was."

"Honestly Elisabeth you are a fool! Anyone with eyes knows whose it is."

"Who my dear? Oh don't leave me on tender hooks!"

"Why Gaston of course!"

Belle felt as if the world had suddenly stopped turning. She grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself as her stomach lurched violently. The two women continued still not aware of her presence.

"Oh my! But I suppose that does make sense, after all she has carried a torch for him for years."

"Yes indeed. Besides who could blame him. After all he is a virile man. And I don't imagine he receives much affection married to Belle. A colder woman I never saw. "

"Yes, he did a good thing marrying her, but she is just so odd. It was no wonder he looked elsewhere."

"Indeed, I don't imagine she was quite the wife he hoped she would be. But now there is poor Paulette, seven months pregnant and abandoned by practically all."

"Tis her own fault for such a sin. Seducing a married man, why I heard…"

Belle could no longer hear the hateful women's speech. She had gone deaf to the whole world. Paulette was seven months pregnant? She was seven months pregnant! And by Gaston, her husband. How many others where there? How many women had he needed because she wasn't enough?

Blindly she stumbled into the snow. She couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. She just had to get out of there. She ran all the way back home. Slamming the door behind her she took in great gulps of air, trying to calm her beating heart.

 _This can't be happening…this isn't happening!_

But it was, she knew it was true. She had been blind to it for years because she had refused to look. Clinging to the last fragment of a lie she had never wanted to accept.

Walking to the mirror that hung on the wall she looked at her reflection. The woman looking back at her was not one she recognized. This woman was old. She was tired, with a gaunt face and grey hairs beginning appear. There were dark circles under her eyes which were listless and dull. No part of her resembled the beauty of 17 who had married Gaston. Not her face, not her figure, and not her character. She was changed…utterly and completely changed. And she couldn't bear to look.

Then she thought of Gaston. Still as handsome as the day they met. His arm was dark as night, his blue eyes sparkling, and his arms strong and large. The only difference was now he sported a full beard that added to his commanding presence. He was 40 years old but looked and acted no differently than 20 years before.

Looking back into the mirror she faced her reflection…..She was 37…her own mother had never lived to see such an age…and here she was…she was old and he had tired of her…apparently long ago.

 _That night_

The wind howled against the shutters making them creak and whistle. Belle sat at the table, a shawl wrapped around her as she watched the flicker of the candle dance.

She didn't know how long she had sat there…hours probably…She finally heard the sound she had been waiting for. The loud groan of the front door opening, followed by the clomp of boots and a gust of wind that threatened to blow the candle out.

The door creaked closed and she turned dead eyes to him.

He strained to remove his boots and promptly threw them on the floor like he had done for 20 years. She watched them fall, they would remain there waiting for her to pick them up. She once again directed her gaze at him.

He looked at her and she thought that indeed he was handsome. By far the most handsome man she had ever seen…but it ran only as deep as appearances.

His brow knit in frustration as he saw her study him.

"What's wrong now!" he barked

She continued to study him. She thought of how he had tricked her into marrying him. She thought of how angry he had been at the birth of their daughter. She remembered how he hadn't wanted her father to live with them. How he threatened to divorce her and take her children. Of the countless humiliations she had suffered at his hands. Of the unwanted sexual attention she had endured. And then she thought of his most recent…and most hurtful betrayal. She thought of Paulette, carrying his child while she had spent all these years bearing him son after son and raising them practically on her own. He had endangered her life time and again and not once had he shown even the slightest concern. He had taken all she loved and all her dreams and had trampled them under the heal of his big boots. And what was worse was he didn't even realize it…Gaston…her _husband_ …

"Damnit Belle what!?"

"Nothing"

 _Nothing_

She stood and walked upstairs to bed. None of it mattered, it was nothing to him. She had finally given up…no one had won…


	11. Chapter 10: Alone

**This is a reworking of this chapter, hopefully it is better now.**

 **Please Review**

 **Chapter 10: Alone**

 _3 weeks later, winter 1800_

They could still hear her screams, even outside they couldn't escape the sound. They sat on the step, the light from the window making patterns on the snow. Even wrapped in coats and shawls the cold still managed to penetrate to the bone.

But it didn't matter how cold it became, they weren't going to go back inside. No one had made them leave. But one by one the eight of them had gathered outside the door, trying to distance themselves from the traumatic sounds of their mother's pain. It had been two days! And still her cry's echoed through the small cottage.

Jacqueline didn't know how long it had taken before someone sent for the doctor. She just remembered the old gentleman dressed in black hurrying up the stairs and commanding that none of the children were to follow. That had been forever ago, and now darkness gathered as the second day drew to a close.

Jacqueline looked up at the clear night's sky. Silver stars winked at her, holding their secrets. It was her birthday today…she was 13 years old…but right now she felt no older than a baby who wants her mother to hold her close, and chase away her fears.

She shifted Louis who sat on her lap. Wrapping the shawl tighter around the two of them trying to keep the cold away. Maurice moved closer as well and she put an arm protectively around him. As Maurice came near so did the others. First the twins, then Pierre, Jacques, and finally her greatest rival little Gaston, all binding in their temporary trues. Because right now, they needed each other.

 ** _Belle_**

She was so cold…She couldn't stop shaking.

 _So tired…_

All she wanted was to sleep. She could feel something pulling her down, lulling her to sleep, calling her to rest.

The Doctor stood over her with a sad worried look on his face.

Belle watched as he tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come.

It didn't matter, she already knew. She could feel herself slipping away.

Oddly enough she wished she could offer the doctor some words of comfort. Tell him not to worry, but she couldn't. Because she was afraid, so very afraid. Not so much for herself, but for her children.

How could she leave them?

They needed her!

She thought of her boys.

Gaston and Jacques would fare the best, they held the most of her husband's love…much more than she ever had. But she worried that their characters would become cruel under their father's influence. Already they showed a lack of compassion that broke her heart.

And Albert and Henri, her little jokesters. Would they ever hear a kind word about her again?

Pierre with his shy demeanor, would he be able to keep up with the overpowering personalities of his brothers and father, or would he be trampled underfoot?

Maurice, her golden little boy. The sweetest of her children. How long would his sensitive nature last without encouragement before hardening to stone?

And Louis, he was just a baby. Barely three years old. Would he even remember her? For how long would he call her name, holding up his plump little arms to be held before he wouldn't even remember who he had been calling for?

 _Please God don't let me die, they need me!_

A wave of nausea crashed down on her making the room swim and her shallow breathing even more labored. Her very skin felt on fire! And the pain ripping through her once again caused her to scream out.

 _Make it stop…please, let me rest…_

As the pain subsided it was replaced by a cold numbness that was all consuming. She felt her eye lids grow heavy and the feeling slowly began to leave her limbs.

While the room seemed to grow farther away and darkness creeped over her, her thoughts turned to her only daughter…Jacqueline.

Tears leaked from her eyes as she thought of her. Jacqueline with her stubborn unyielding nature and fragile heart…what would become of her?

Of all her children Jacqueline needed her most. Gaston had no love for their daughter, she would be put upon and beaten down. Who would love her girl once she was gone?

Jacqueline needed someone, to take care of her and show her the value within herself. But mostly Jacqueline needed to be loved…who would love her now.

She wanted more than anything to welcome the darkness's embrace…all she wanted was rest. With the last of her strength Belle moved her lips in a silent prayer.

 _Dear God, please, send someone to take care of Jacqueline…_

With her last request still on her cold lips Belle rested.

 ** _Outside_**

Silence fell, and oddly enough it was louder than the screams had ever been. No one moved, they were frozen. Not by the cold but by crippling uncertainty. The front door opened and a woman exited. Hurrying into the darkness without ever acknowledging them. Jacqueline just managed to glimpse the small bundle that lay unmoving in her arms.

The door swung on its hinges but didn't close. A new shadow joined, that of papa's pacing figure reflected on the snow. Jacqueline looked inside. Her father was pacing before the fireplace, his large boots causing mama's rocking chair to shake from the vibrations.

"I'll be back" she said as she removed Louis from her lap. She entered the house on silent feet, which wasn't difficult since she only had some homemade variation of moccasins for shoes. Standing in the shadows she watched as her normally confidant and fear inspiring father paced. She had never seen him like this. When the others were born, if he was even present he never once showed anything akin to worry…not so this time.

The floor boards creaked overhead as the black cloaked doctor slowly made his dissent…bag in hand. Still unaware of his daughter's presence Gaston turned to the stooped old man. Jacqueline couldn't make out everything that was said. But the reactions were glaringly visible.

"Well?" Gaston asked impatiently

"I warned you…I warned _you_!" the doctor accused

"What are you babbling about? Belle is a strong woman!"

"NO! She _was_ ….but not for a long time…"

Gaston took a step back from the man, like he was suddenly afraid of him.

"What are you saying?"

The doctor didn't speak. He just stared at him...shaking his head sadly he looked at the floor. Taking a deep breath he turned and looked Jacqueline straight in the eye.

Gaston still didn't see who he was looking at for the girl was concealed in shadows. Only her violent purple eyes could be seen in the firelight.

Jacqueline felt a shiver go up her spine as the grey eyes bore in to hers. It was as if the doctor was trying to apologize to her.

He turned back to her father…

"What I am saying Monsieur, is that your wife is dead."

Placing his cap on his head the old physician walked out the door and into the night.

Gaston stood still, unable to move. Then slowly he sank into his chair, blue eyes fixed on the floor. Finally burring his face in his hands.

Jacqueline felt a great weight settle on her chest, making it hard to breathe. Her heart constricted with an unnamed fear. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her mind screamed the question…while none listened.

 _No…it can't be…NO!_

With fear pounding throughout her body she ran towards the stairs.

"JACQUELINE STOP!"

She ignored the command, running up the stairs as fast as she could. They seemed to multiply in front of her…keeping her down…keeping her away. Clawing at the bannister she pulled herself to the top! And stopped cold…in front of her was the door…she didn't want to open it, yet more than anything she wished for it to open.

With a shaking hand she gave a slight push and the door creaked open. Inside was pure darkness save one candle that rested on a table beside the bed…..Clenching her hands into fists she attempted to stop their shaking…slowly she entered….and walked to the bed…

There she lay, pale and motionless…she looked asleep, and for the first time in her memory Jacqueline thought her mother looked at peace.

Taking a hand she moved a strand of brown hair from her mother's brow and felt just how cold her skin was.

With tears running down her cheeks, she spoke.

" _Mama?_ "

Taking her cold hand in her warm one she held it tight.

" _Please…you need to wake up…P-Please mama…You have to wake up… the boys need you, Louis, Maurice, Pierre...We all need you…I need you!"_

Tears dropped on the faded quilt.

 _"_ _Please…mama…you can't leave me!"_

 _"_ _You can't l-leave me here!...Please come back! COME BACK!"_

Bringing her mama's hand to her face she kissed it as hot tears rolled down her fingers.

 _God, bring her back!...Please, please, bring her back…... I need her…mama, don't leave me alone…I love you…please…please!…don't leave me…mama… please…_


	12. Chapter 11: Regret

**Ok Next Chapter, Spoiler Alert The Prince is coming Back...In the Next Chapter!**

 **Please, Please, Please! Review! I am dying for some feedback here, I really want to improve the story.**

 **Chapter 11: Regret**

Jacqueline felt Louis's cold little fingers slip into her glove less hand. Curling her finger stiffly around his she attempted to comfort him…but it was no use. She couldn't comfort him, she barely had any desire to try. They stood huddled around the grave staring at the fresh covering of dirt that contrasted sharply with the white snow. Bells tolled in the distance announcing the hour, disrupting the silence that consumed the little town with a suffocating reverence.

In that grave, far below the snow lay their mother. And cradled in her lovingly arms was the baby girl whose eyes had never opened and whose lungs had never taken a breath. While the children who so desperately needed her were left behind.

Jacqueline had always wanted a sister. Now she regretted that wish more than she could have thought possible. She would have given anything, done anything, promised her very life if it were required, if only she could talk to her mother one last time. Death is the cruelest of punishments, not for those who have gone, but for the ones left behind.

As she looked at her brothers faces she saw that they all looked as lost as she felt. Even little Gaston seemed uncertain. Papa's face was as unreadable as stone. He stared into the distance, never making eye contact and never so much as glancing at the freshly dug grave before him.

The Priest gave the sign of the cross and closed his small brown book. A quiet amen echoed through the modest gathering of mourners who had come to pay their respects. No sooner had the sound of the closing prayer book reached their ears than Gaston turned on his heels, and marched towards the tavern without so much as a glance back.

The children watched him walk away, unsure whether they should follow, remain, or…truthfully they had no idea what to do. They had just lost their tether and were adrift, and it was now clear that the most logical individual for them to look to for guidance was not equipped for the task.

One by one the mourners dispersed until only the eight children remained forlornly beside their mother's grave. The quiet was all consuming, Jacqueline wanted to scream! But she couldn't, it was like there was a rock lodged in her throat blocking her air supply and making it painful to breath.

Maurice began to sniffle and she felt a red hot rage consume her. Without even looking at the little boy she silenced him with an angry hiss. Maurice coughed a few times and then swallowed his tears down, though his nose continued to drip. She couldn't deal with his tears now. If he began to cry she knew her own tears wouldn't be long in coming and if she began to cry right now she feared she would never stop.

Slowly Jacqueline became aware of several pairs of eyes watching her. She turned to see her seven brothers staring at her intently. They weren't kind looks, nor unkind ones. They were simply watching to see what should be done. Jacqueline realized that they would continue standing there forever unless someone told them what to do…but what should they do. Like a bolt of lightning she realized the most logical answer was to go home.

Tightening her grip on Louis hand she looked at her brothers sternly so they would not take her words for a suggestion.

"We're going home now."

Her voice faltered only slightly but her tone was commanding and a bit harsh. She couldn't help it, she was now in a possession of authority that she had no business being in. And like most who have to deal with more than they know how to manage she was going to become a bully in order to make those under her care do as she said. And so they wouldn't see the uncertainty that plagued her.

They trudged through the snow till they reached the path. There dirt and snow had mixed creating a brown icy mixture that was to solid to resemble mud but still clung to their shoes and clothes, soaking them in the process. At last their weary bones reached the cottage. Darkness was falling giving the house an ominous look that held no resemblance to the welcoming abode it had been all there lives.

Once inside Jacques struggled to close the door as the wind had picked up and was pushing back hard. Finally he managed it and the eight were plunged into darkness. Once again Maurice began to whimper. And Jacqueline felt her skin crawl with frustration.

"MAURICE BE QUIET!"

It didn't work and soon the little boy was blubbering along with Louis who didn't understand the situation and began to call for mama with outstretched arms. Jacqueline backed away from him her own feelings of loss becoming overwhelming. As the toddlers cried the others began to question.

"What do we do now genius?"

 _I don't know…_

"I am hunger."

 _What do you want me to do about it?_

"Where's Papa?"

 _I DON'T KNOW!_

"Jackie is Mama coming back?"

 _Be quiet of PLEASE be Quiet!_

The voices swarmed around her until she wanted to cut her ears off!

 _What am I supposed to do?_

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" she shouted

Just to be sure they got the message she slapped Gaston who was dangerously close to her face and demanding answers. All the boys looked at her in surprise. Gaston and Jacqueline had fought many times before, even giving one another black eyes. But this was different, there was no one nearby to stop the fight…who was the highest authority?

Little Gaston held a hand to his pudgy cheek, his mouth open in a perfect circle. He studied his sister for a long time…The two were identical in height but Gaston seemed to shrink before his sister's glare. The wolf was unpinned and she had no one to hold her back. Jacqueline had always been stronger than her brother both as a fighter and mentally quicker. But her spirit was stronger as well. Gaston had never realized it before because mama or papa were always at hand to keep her in place but now her knew who was really in control and he didn't like it.

Gaston's face turned into a scowl but he backed away. Jacqueline now officially was the one in charge…and she had no idea what to do. A question made earlier came to mind and she decided to act on it.

"Everyone sit down."

They complied and all sat cross-legged on the rug. Jacqueline went over to the stove and cracked some eggs into a pan. She wasn't a good cook at all but she did know the basics of scrambling eggs. She had to fish a few shell fragments from the mixture but all in all it was alright. After cooking the eggs she grabbed what remained of a loaf of bread from the shelf. Checking it over she found a few spots where green twinges of mold were beginning to appear. Taking a knife she cut the patches off and with the loaf under her arm and pan in hand she returned to the rug.

By this time the boys had overcome their fear and were now squirming restlessly. Once the food was cooked they were all so overcome by hunger that none of them thought of getting plates to eat off of. Instead she set the pan down in the center of the rug and using bread for scoops they ate.

About half way through the meal complaints began to arise.

"These eggs are runny!"

"Get out of my way!"

"HEY! That was my piece!"

"Gross! Is that mold!"

Henri held up a piece of bread with a patch of green that Jacqueline had missed. Angrily she snatched it from his hand and tore out the offending section. Thrusting it back into his grimy hand she hissed.

"THERE! Now eat it before I cram it down your throat!"

"And the rest of you STARVE for all I care!"

There was a moment of silence before each began again to eat this time without comment.

 _A few hours later_

As the bells once again tolled in the distance Jacqueline looked at the mass of sleeping bodies on the rug. They had fallen where they sat and now all were snoring peacefully. Hoping that when they woke this horrible nightmare would be over and life would return to what it had been before.

But she knew better. Separated from them all she sat back in a corner. Feeling more distant from the ones who were her blood then she had ever felt before. She had no affection for them, the one thing that had bound them together was gone and not coming back. She knew that her life had changed, in what way she wasn't entirely sure but she instinctively knew it was not for the better.

 _The Tavern_

Gaston slammed his mug down against the counter so hard that the wood shook.

"Another one!"

The barmaid scurried to comply and in her haste overfilled the mug. Beer spilled over the sides and pooled around the vessel. Normally this would have result in a tongue lashing from the owner, but not today. Today he was too distracted to notice anything of his surroundings. He downed the mug of beer as quickly as its predecessor but it did not give him the freedom from thought he so desired. He had been drinking steadily for hours now trying to lose himself in drunkenness. He was drunk all right, but this time was different. This was not a drunkards laughing escape from reality. Instead it seemed that with each drink he became even more overcome by the reality and feelings he longed to flee. This was a drunkenness ridden with guilt.

 _I can't believe she's dead…He said it was my fault! Foolish man it couldn't have been my fault!_

Gaston fought with his thoughts trying to deny the truth or wave it away. But for the first time and sadly the last in his life Gaston set his vanity aside and was able to see the truth as it really was.

 _No it wasn't her fault…it was mine._

"I should never have married Belle."

He said to no one as he once again raised his glass to his lips. Tears stung his eyes as they pooled there. Only now did he see a glimpse of his mistaken cruelty towards the woman who had been his faithful wife for 20 years, but whom he had never truly known. He should have been better to her, said he was sorry. But he hadn't, and he regretted it…too late.


	13. Chapter 12: Forward

**Please Review should have another Chapter up Soon!**

 **Chapter 12: Forward**

The small cottage seemed like a haunted abyss of shadows and memories. Gaston did not return to the cottage, that day or any other. He had had his moment of regret and wished now to forget. After two days of her father's absence Jacqueline a child all of 13 made a crucial decision in regards to her future and that of her brothers. If papa would not come home, then they would go to him.

She hadn't consciously planned to never return but her inner most self-seemed to understand that once they left that door the likelihood of it opening again were slim. So she ordered her small followers to put on all of the few clothes they owned and to procure the pillows and blankets from their beds. After this task was complete she ordered them out into the dark street while she extinguished the candle which was barely more than a wick in a stub of wax.

Walking quickly after snuffing out the quivering flame she rushed for the door before the horrors lurking in shadow should catch her. As she reached the door she turned back for just a moment. Her eyes adjusted quite easily to the darkness as she took one last look at what had been her home… she couldn't call it that anymore, without mama's presence this place could never be her home again. As she scanned the room one last time her eye caught sight of a blue book sitting on the mantle. Papa had given mama that book many years ago. Mama had never read it but she had always kept it there in a place of relative prominence as a reminder of something Jacqueline couldn't understand.

For a moment Jacqueline thought of taking the book with her. But she couldn't read, besides she felt the book should remain here exactly as it always had.

Closing the door she turned to her brothers who waited expectantly in the street. Taking the lead she headed towards the lights of the tavern.

Gaston's children took up residence in the tavern with their father. The cottage remained closed and unused. None of them ever went near it or spoke of times before. Belle was dead and it seemed that the memory of her had been buried as well. Never was she spoken of and like the cottage only rarely was the thought of her brought to mind, only to be quickly shoved away out of sheer pain.

Yes the cottage remained as a ghost, its interior untouched exactly the same way it had been the day Belle died…but life continued to move forward.


	14. Chapter 13: Down a Well

**THE LONGEST CHAPTER I HAVE EVER WRITTEN!**

 **Hope you Enjoy and...**

 **PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, REVIEW!**

 **Chapter 13: Down A Well**

 _5 years later winter 1805_

Jacqueline rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she looked in the small mirror that hung on her wall. It was old and dirty with a scratch running through its tarnished surface but it was better than nothing. She knew she should clean it but she only seemed to remember when she looked in the mirror while getting ready, and that was when she had the least amount of time to spare. Besides it wasn't like she didn't already know what she looked like. But with that being said today for some strange reason she decided to really study her reflection. Taking the sleeve of her night gown she attempted to wipe off the surface in order to make the task easier.

The woman (for she could hardly be called a girl anymore) looking back at her was in deed a beauty. Often times she had heard comments confirming it along with a fair amount of jealous glares from the other girls her age. But she had really never taken any of it very seriously. It wasn't that she was ignorant of her looks but more that she had other things to think about.

Turning her face first this way then that she watched the light gather shadows in the hollow of her high cheekbones and shimmer across her eyes. She was tall, the tallest woman in the village no doubt. Although she couldn't see it in the mirror she knew her figure was good and her legs long and slim…the product of many years of dancing. She was quite good, sometimes Gaston even had her perform in the tavern for the delight of his friends.

Turning her attention back to her face she examined it. Her skin was flawless! (A genetic gift for she surely took poor care of it.) Her lips were full and her nose was elegant and straight, turning up ever so slightly at the end and her jaw was strong like her father's but not unfeminine. Actually it gave a nice contrast to the other features that would have seemed too soft on their own.

Angling her head a bit she watched the light from the lantern dance through her chestnut curls that flowed down her long neck, pooling in the hollow of her collar bone before cascading down her shoulder to her hips. Brushing the hair aside with long fingers that were beautiful despite being roughened by hard work she turned her attention to possibly her best feature. (Though some could argue she didn't possess any bad ones…physically.) Her eyes.

Two large luminous spheres of purple looked back. The startling violet color was softened by the rim of dark lashes that framed them growing so long they began to ever so softly curl back on themselves. When she swept those black lashed lids down and looked seductively through them with those violet eyes no man within a hundred miles could have resisted.

Yes outwardly Jacqueline was the picture of perfections. A perfect combination of her parents' physical beauty creating a façade that far surpassed either of them…inwardly however she was a torrent mixture of her split heritage of opposites and constantly at war within herself. For the traits that blended so well outwardly contrasted sharply in her character which was an odd and conflicting blending of her two parents. Though this may have not been the case had she possessed some guidance in her life besides that of her self-obsessed father who's only interest in her lay in her beauty for which he paraded before others as a credit to himself.

Sighing Jacqueline swept her hair from her face and tied it back with a strip of green cloth that had been left over from her dress. Dressing quickly she picked up the lamp and exited her tiny bedroom. In reality it was just a storage closet on the second floor that she had procured for herself. But it did manage to give her some semblance of privacy for which she was EXTREMELY grateful!

The sun wasn't even up yet but if she waited for the sun then she would never have enough time…oh how she hated the morning!

She walked extra loudly as she passed the boys room, hoping the sound would wake them. She was bitter that they weren't expected to get up and work as well but her job had been clearly defined since she was 13 years old. All "woman's" work including caring for her brothers fell to her and no one else. Papa would never have considered making the boys help their sister in her tasks seeing it as beneath them. In the past she could bully them in to doing her work without papa's knowledge but that system had quickly eroded as Gaston's influence over his sons grew. At this point brothers and sister thoroughly hated each other with a red hot passion, and both sides would have been grateful to never see the other again.

As for Gaston his relationship with his sole daughter was more complicated. They were very much alike the two of them, but oh so very different. Gone were the days when she craved his attention, approval, and affection. Jacqueline though she never said it out loud blamed him for her mother's death and despised his blind favoritism of her brothers.

For his part Gaston paid her little to no mind. He expected her to behave herself and to do what he expected of her without question. The flaw in his thinking? Jacqueline was the daughter of Belle and there for couldn't be content with repetition that did nothing to excite her quick mind. And she was the daughter of Gaston which meant she was incapable of doing anything that bored her without complaint.

To say she was stubborn would have been an understatement. The best way to understand the conflict between Gaston and Jacqueline is to think of it as that of a mountain against a hurricane. A mountain will not move and a hurricane will not stay…how could either one conquer the other?

After passing the boys room she made her way on now silent feet down the staircase to the main room of the tavern. Holding the lamp high she scanned the room observing the work that had yet to be done. Placing it down on a table she moved to the various windows opening their shutters. Next there were chairs to be straightened, stool that had turned over, floors to sweep and tables that needed to be cleaned again. Once this was done the sun was beginning to appear. Heading to the back she checked to beer supplies and made pencil scratches in the books of stock that needed to be replaced. Next she began making breakfast.

Like clockwork the rest of her family began to descend the stairs as soon as the porridge had cooled. Hungriest first they came, Pierre 12, Albert 13, Jacques 15, Maurice 11, Henri 13, and finally Louis 8. The ungrateful swarm began taking their seats as she filled plates and bowls with helpings of porridge, eggs, and sausage. Not a one expressed any form of gratitude and instead began shoveling food down their throats as if they had been starved.

Next their father joined his brood, tussling Louis brown curls affectionately he held out his mug which Jacqueline dutifully filled with coffee.

After downing the glass Gaston took a look at his children. Jacqueline smirked as she watched his eyes twitch in confusion as he tried to discern which one of them was missing.

 _What's the matter papa? Forget your pride and joy?_

At last the answer came as Gaston set his cup down loudly on the table.

"Where is your brother?" he asked the assembly

"Probably still snoring!" (Maurice)

"He got in late last night, apparently Marie is quite the entertainer!" (Jacques)

"Ya the fatso stepped on me!" (Henri)

"That was me stupid!" (Albert)

"Who are you calling stupid?" (Henri)

"I am looking at you ugly!" (Albert)

"You couldn't figure that one out Henri?" (Pierre)

"Shut up Twit!" (Henri)

"Make me!" (Pierre)

Then for no reason in particular except that he didn't want to be left out of the fun Louis bit Jacques on the hand making him drop his sausage which Louis quickly stuffed in his mouth.

"Why you RAT GET OVER HERE!" (Jacques)

Jacques reached across the table to hit Louis who had scampered away but caught Maurice instead.

"Watch it oaf!" (Maurice)

"KNOCK IT OFF!" Yelled Jacqueline hitting Jacques in the back with a wooden spoon. If they ruined the food she had just prepared then they were out of luck because she wasn't about to make more.

"ENOUGH!" Commanded Gaston…and the rampage ceased.

"Jacqueline go get your brother."

"WHAT?! NO!"

Gaston gave her a look that warned her not to test him. Jacqueline slammed the porridge pot down on the table causing porridge to slosh out over the sides. Some of the hot goo even splashed onto Albert's arm who howled in self-pity. She had been busy since before sun up and little Gaston was still snoring away. If she had been the one who over slept and by some miracle they had managed breakfast on their own, none of them would even have considered waking her until all the food was gone and they needed her to wash up. But since his majesty had overslept of course he needed to be woken up! Otherwise he might miss out on the food he did absolutely nothing to help prepare!

"If that overgrown donkey can't get up by himself I am not going to help him!"

"Do as I say!"

"He can starve for all I care!"

"Go get him NOW!"

"Make one of them do it, I've been working!"

"I told you to!"

"It isn't my job to baby sit GASTON!"

Jacqueline felt her blood boil. Gaston stood knocking his chair over in the process.

"YOUR JOB LITTLE GIRL IS TO DO AS I TELL YOU TO DO! NOW GO!"

Jacqueline's anger only increased but she did as she was told. She marched up the stairs and banged with loud fists on the door.

"GET UP! GET UP! GET UP! GET UP! GGGGGEEEEEETTTTT UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!"

The sound of Little Gaston falling off his bed from freight could be heard which caused his brothers to snicker and gave Jacqueline a smirk of satisfaction. He opened the door red faced and scowling. Henri was right he was getting fat, she thought. Smiling sweetly she said.

"Papa wants you brother _dear_."

He stepped out the door and stood at his full height. At 17 he was taller then she and he never tired of looking down at her. (Both figuratively and literally.) Patting her on the head like a dog he smiled, as hers quickly faded away.

" _Good Girl._ "

He sauntered off down the staircase whistling. Because there was only a banister separating the first floor from the second the whole exchange had been witnessed by their father. Which was the only thing keeping her from punching him in his fat face! Biting the inside of her cheek in order to control her temper she followed back down stairs, and began to taste blood in her mouth.

 _Later that afternoon_

Jacqueline was halfheartedly wiping off the bar counter wishing she was anywhere else. It was afternoon and only a few stragglers were in the tavern at this hour, tonight would be the real rush but right now it was so boring she was wiping the counter again just so she could eavesdrop on two men's conversation which so far had been uninteresting.

"I am telling you, now that Napoleon has declared himself emperor it won't be long before things change here for us."

"Really? I don't see how, we managed to remain removed from that bloody revolution. I see no reason why we should be of any concern now."

The second man spoke with such confidence that Jacqueline had very little trouble convincing herself that he was correct. Until the other shattered that so newly formed belief.

"Are you really so naive August? Napoleon is a soldier and a successful one at that. He isn't going to be satisfied not being the sole ruler of all France. Even a seemingly insignificant little piece like our principality must be brought under his control. He is used to winning and won't be happy until he has brought all of Europe to heal."

Jacqueline forgot to feign that she was working and was now leaning on counter listening intently and shamelessly to their conversation.

"Let's talk no more of this Frances even if what you say is true I have no desire to think about it until it becomes necessary."

 _NO! Don't stop talking it was just getting interesting! No don't get up! Sit back down! Come onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn don't go!_

The two men left the tavern now talking about how this was the hardest winter they had seen in over two decades. As the double doors swung shut on their hinges Jacqueline put her head down on the bar in frustration.

 _Please someone save me from this drudgery._

Apparently the universe was in a giving mood for just then she heard a slight tapping noise on the window. Looking up she saw the smiling face of Sef through the dirty window pain.

 _I really need to clean those._ She thought, but right now it could wait.

Swinging her legs over the counter she slid gracefully off and ran to the coat rack. Grabbing her faded brown cloak she threw it over her shoulders and rushed for the door, just barely remembering to holler to LeFou that she would be back before the evening rush as she burst out onto the street. Feeling like a freed prisoner she breathed in great gulps of air and turned her face up to the cold winter sun.

"Jacqueline Over Here!"

She turned then to see the smiling face of her best friend.

"Sef!"

The two girls embraced before walking down the street arm in arm, heads pressed close discussing secrets with the confidence of sisters.

"Sef thank you for springing me from my prison."

"(chuckle) you're welcome, but I have to tell you my motives are entirely selfish."

"I don't care what the reason was as long as I got out."

The two walked along enjoying each other's company. As they went Jacqueline caught sight of a women wearing a green dress rather similar to her own in color but far more gaudy and reveling. The woman moved quickly through the village as if she was trying to avoid being seen. Jacqueline could just see bits of blond hair mixed with white escaping her scarf that was wrapped around her head against the cold. At her side was a five year old little boy who was practically being dragged by his mother so great was her haste. Jacqueline felt her stomach turn as she glimpsed the boy's black hair and piercing blue eyes.

"I see Paulette has come to town…and it appears she has brought Gabriel with her." Sef said watching the woman with a mixture of pity and curiosity. Jacqueline's own face was as hard as stone, the conflicting emotions within visible through her eyes and clenched jaw.

"It appears so." Trying to distract herself she turned to her friend. "So what are your _selfish_ motives for releasing me from work?"

Sef stopped walking her face practically glowing with joy. Jacqueline stopped as well.

"Sef? What's going on?"

Sef stepped forward and took Jacqueline's hands in hers gripping them in excitement.

"Oh Jacqueline it is so wonderful I can hardly keep it in any longer!"

"What? What is so wonderful?"

"He did it! He finally asked me!"

Jacqueline removed her hands from her friends grip and took a step back. She had a sinking suspicion she knew what her friend was talking about.

"Who?"

"Don't act dumb with me you know who…Charles! He finally asked me to marry him! I am going to be married!"

Sef looked at her face waiting for her to share in her own joy. Every moment Jacqueline waited she could see Sef's heart grow heavier. But how could she be happy for her? How? Charles was dim witted and slow. True he adored Sef but was that really all her friend wanted? Was she truly happy to settle for Charles?

Jacqueline often forgot that Sef was two years older than herself, being 20 to her 18. Their personalities were such that Jacqueline often found herself in the position of protector. A position she took very seriously. She adored her friend and even envied her kind nature, something that made her want to watch out for her all the more.

No she wouldn't let her throw her life away on that simpleton! She was about to tell her so, but when she looked back at Sef's perfectly happy face she just couldn't do it. Plastering a smile on her face that she hoped would pass as genuine she offered her congratulations.

"Congratulations Sef, I am very happy for you."

Sef smiled knowingly, they had been friends for to many years for her not to recognize when she was lying. But she appreciated the sentiment and effort behind the words, even if the words themselves were solely for her benefit.

"You can't hide your real feelings from me. But I thank you all the same."

"Well one thing I can say that is completely true is that he is the luckiest man in all of France."

Sef laughed good humoredly at the praise.

"I don't know about that, I imagine any man who was lucky enough, and brave enough to marry you could easily claim that title."

"Well then Charlie will have no competition for I don't intend to marry anyone."

Sef looked at her quizzically as if she was trying to decide if this was a joke.

"Don't you want to get married one day?"

"What would I get out of that but a passel of brats?"

"Be serious! Don't you want a life and family of your own?"

Jacqueline thought about it for a moment. She personally had nothing against the idea of marriage and when she thought of Sef's horrible home life she could see why her friend saw the concept of marriage as an escape. And she believed that Charles would be good to her and Sef adored infants so the idea of having a dozen probably delighted her…but not Jacqueline.

"How would being married make my life any better?"

Sef looked back unsure what to say.

"No I am serious! What would change? What would be different? I would still be weighting on a man hand and foot just like I do now. I would have to do as he said and if I was lucky we would agree but if we didn't then what could I do? My life is already dictated to by the men around me and I have no plans of increasing my enslavement by adding another to the mix! Better the devil you know then the one you don't."

Her words had changed the feeling of the afternoon and the two finished their walk in silence.

After they parted ways Jacqueline was still not willing to go back to her never ending pile of chores so she decided to go look through the shop windows. As she walked beneath a window she could hear the distinct sound of a violin drifting down from the second story to the street below. The song was sweet and lively as if the player was trying to coax springs arrival even though there were many more months of winter ahead.

Taken away by the sound of music Jacqueline began to dance slightly following the rise and fall of the notes. As the music became louder and increased the pace so did she. Allowing her mind to focus on nothing but the sound she twirled and swayed with ease unaware of the crowd that had gathered to watch. She also didn't realize that the violinist himself had taken notice of her and was now playing with the sole desire to see her dance.

When at last his fingers demanded a rest the musician laid down his bow and Jacqueline spun to a graceful stop, her skirt settling around her she suddenly realized the many smiling faces watching her. Never one to shy away from an audience she bowed and applause erupted. Soon coins where flying through the air in her direction which she scampered to save from the snow.

After the gatherers returned to their tasks she set on the edge of the town fountain to count her earnings. The water had ceased to run in the frigid cold so it was relatively abandoned. As she counted her excitement grew, there was a decent amount of money here! She didn't know why she had never considered dancing for money before. She began to imagine all the things she could do with it as well as how to make more when out of nowhere a hand grabbed her coins and took off running.

She just caught sight of Jacques as he sprinted through the street laughing as he clutched her coins in his hand. Jumping to her feet she took off after him.

"GET BACK HERE!"

 _I swear Jacques if you drop even one of those coins I am going to make you suffer!_

She chased him with a vengeance through the streets his incepted laughter ringing in her ears. Although her legs were longer than his he had a head start which had so far kept him out of her reach…but she was gaining on him. His clock within her grasp now, as she reached out her hand to grab it a mountain got in her way.

Jacqueline fell back on the ground landing hard on her bum. A giant hand reached down and pulled her up by the arm. She looked up into the cold blue eyes of her father.

Keeping an iron grip on her arm he shook her slightly.

"What are you doing?!"

His fingers were so rough she could imagine the bruises beginning to form on her arm.

"Jacques took my money! Give it back you twit!"

Confusion flickered across his face looking at Jacques whose own face was grinning he asked.

"Where the hell did she get money?"

"From dancing in the street like a whore." Jacques announced smugly.

Jacqueline watched in fear as her father's face contorted in anger and his eyes turned black with rage.

"YOU DID WHAT!" His grip intensified and Jacqueline had to bite her lip to keep from crying out in pain.

" _I earned it._ " She whispered through clenched teeth.

"I understand that! How dare you embarrass me by disgracing yourself in public like that!"

Jacqueline looked at him incredulously.

 _You can't be serious? You? This is all about embarrassing you!_

"What are you mad about? He is the one who stole _my_ money! Besides I dance in the tavern all the time!"

At hearing this Gaston gave her one more jolt and Jacqueline thought her arm would pop out of its socket.

" _Not for money!_ " He hissed and then released her arm causing her to stumble back a step. Turning to Jacques Gaston said rather pleasantly.

"Take the money."

Not waiting to be asked twice Jacques took off making sure to flash his sister and evil smile as he went. Jacqueline stood with her mouth open in disbelief.

"W-What? THAT WAS MY MONEY!" she yelled

Turning swiftly back on her Gaston's face was once again a mirror of rage.

" _That_ was for your behavior. Now GET BACK TO THE TAVERN!"

The command in his voice did indeed send her running to do as she was told but not without a good deal of bitterness in her throat.

 _IT ISN'T FAIR! Oh I hate him, I HATE HIM!_

 _A Week Later in the Tavern_

Jacqueline made her way through the crowd of men, pouring drinks and trying to avoid grabby hands. It was only about nine o'clock but because it was the dead of winter the sun had set hours ago which was when this crowd had begun drinking. By now they were fit to be tied, drunken laughter filled the air along with boastful taunts and remorseful confessions. By all accounts it was a normal evening but then something happened that changed everything.

Jacqueline rolled her eyes as she watched her brothers bragging shamelessly to a group of friends in the hopes of earning their admiration.

 _Stupid children._

When suddenly the door was blown open by a gust of wind and in blew her father along with his friend Monsieur Carlisle the blacksmith. He was a middle aged man who constantly smelled of horses and sweat. His thin brown hair always looked like he had just seen a ghost and his teeth were yellow and crooked. A large potbelly made him look extremely unbalanced because his arms and legs were so thin which struck Jacqueline as odd since he was a blacksmith and had to spend most of his day swinging heavy metal tools.

The two came in laughing and congratulating each other so loudly that everyone else took notice. Holding up his hands for quiet Gaston's smiling face began to search the crowd. When his blurry vision didn't show what he wanted he began calling it by name.

"JACQUELINE? JACQUELINE MY GIRL WHERE ARE YOU?"

She felt her heart stop and her blood run cold.

 _What does he want me for? Why are they all looking at me? What is going on?_

Finally someone pushed her forward and Gaston took notice.

"AH THERE YOU ARE! COME, C-COME UP HERE!"

She moved forward slowly and with trepidation towards her father who was smiling and motioning her forward with an outstretched arm. Any other daughter would have gladly approached such a welcoming looking parent but she only felt filled with worry.

As she passed her brothers she noticed the same looks of confusion and curiosity on their faces as she was sure was evident on hers. The whole tavern was silent as they waited to hear what Gaston had to say. After reaching them Gaston put an arm around her and turned her to the onlookers. To anyone watching it would seem he was doing this out of affection, only Jacqueline could feel the iron grip with which he held her shoulder preventing her escape.

 _What is happening?_

Face beaming Gaston addressed the crowd.

"My Friends I have wonderful news. Carlisle has just ask my permission to marry my daughter Jacqueline...and I have accepted!"

The crowd erupted in a chorus of congratulations for the couple. A few men even stood to pat the groom on the back. As for Jacqueline she felt the world begin to spin. Marry him? She couldn't! She wouldn't! Pushing herself out of her father's grasp she turned to look at him with a mixture of hatred and pleading in her violet eyes.

" _No_ " She whispered so softly that Gaston actually had to ask what she had said.

"I said no…I will not marry him." Jacqueline was actually shocked at how calm her voice sounded. It was like she was in a daze, under normal circumstances she would have screamed, hollered, fought, and kicked at such news. But it was just so unexpected that her normal instincts were dulled.

Gaston's face darkened and his smile took on a sinister demeanor. Sauntering forward he engulfed her in his shadow.

"Oh but you will little girl."

He motioned for Little Gaston to join them.

"Your sister is over excited at her happy news, take her to her room to lie down."

Jacqueline was still to frozen in shock to protest and instead allowed herself to be led away by her brother who was doing a poor job of controlling his laughter at the whole situation.

As he watched them climb the stairs Gaston heard the voice of the butcher Leon Leroy behind him say.

"Ungrateful just like her mother, Belle was always an odd one."

What happened next was probably the most unexpected thing that could have happened. Not in their wildest dreams would anyone in that room have imagined what happened. Gaston spun on his heels and punched Leon with dead accuracy square in the nose. Leon sunk to the floor just barely able to maintain consciousness but one thing was quite clear through the haze of pain. It was Gaston's finger pointing accusingly at him and a serious warning in his ear.

"Don't you ever speak of her again!...Belle was a good woman."

With that being said he went back to celebrating as if the whole exchange had never happened.

 _Upstairs_

The sound of the door clicking was like a noose settling around her neck.

 _Marry…Jacqueline and Carlisle…you will…_

No, she wouldn't! The numbness that had settled on her was finally lifting and her mind began to act quickly.

 _I will not marry that smelly old trout…HE CAN'T MAKE ME!_

She began to pace.

 _Yes he can you fool!_

 _But I won't let him!_

 _How are you going to stop him Jacqueline?_

 _I…um…I…_

 _How Jacqueline?_

 _I could take…_

 _HOW!_

 _I"LL LEAVE!_

Jacqueline stopped pacing as the solution to all her problems fell into her lap like an apple from a tree. She would leave! Where she would go she didn't care all that mattered was leaving this place. And truth be told the girl would have rather hung herself then have been the wife of Carlisle de Monte.

She had nothing to pack and she was in such a panic that if she had she wouldn't have remembered it anyway. Grabbing her cloak she fastened the clasp and then carefully checked to see if the door to her room had been locked. Thankfully it wasn't. Little Gaston had been too busy laughing at his sister to think to confine her to her room. And even he didn't think she was crazy enough to run away.

With an ear pressed to the door she listened for what felt like hours until she was certain the party had reached a truly drunken state. Then on silent feet she opened the door and snuck to the window at the end of the hall, less than five feet from her door. Pushing it open she felt the cold slap of a winter's wind against her face. Looking down she was grateful to see a large bank of snow that could break her fall. Not allowing herself time to become afraid she leapt through the opening and landed on the snow below.

Once on the ground she began to run. She had no destination in mind as long as it was far away from the tavern, her father, and the would be groom. Before long she found herself at the edge of the dark forest. Without ever looking back she crossed over into the wood and continued running like her life depended on it.

When she finally had to stop running or risk her lungs exploding her mind began to sort through her actions.

 _What am I doing? They'll find me for sure! Well maybe the falling snow will cover my tracks. But even so they will know I have gone and come looking for me. How long will it take Papa to find me…a day…two days?_

Jacqueline was becoming frantic trying to think of someway to keep them from looking for her otherwise they were sure to catch up and drag her kicking and screaming all the way to the alter!

 _They won't look for you if you're dead…_

The idea struck her like lightning and she decided it was her best option. As if decreed by providence she heard in the distance the sound of a river. Which was miraculous considering that the snow had picked up and was fast turning into a blizzard.

She followed the faint sound until she came upon a small river, patches of which had yet to completely freeze due to the speed of the moving water. The river wasn't terribly deep most likely no higher than her waist but it was still entirely plausible that someone could be swept away and drown.

 _But they need to know your dead…_

Sticking her hand down into the freezing water she managed to grab a rugged edged stone near the shore. Taking her cloak off she laid it on the ground and stretched her hand across it. Taking the rock she felt the sharp sting as she used it to slice her palm open and watched a stream of blood fall onto the cloth. By now she was shivering but she ignored it. Making sure the blood was visible she smeared her hand across the fabric before tossing the stone back into the river. Next she laid the cloak across the branches of a bush that was growing out of the water's edge half way in the water half way on the bank. Giving it a mighty tug she heard the sound of the fabric being ripped and lodging itself on the branches. Letting what still remained of it in her hands fall into the river she took a deep breath and walked into the swiftly moving river.

 _Now even a hound won't be able to follow my scent._

Jacqueline knew she was risking freezing to death by doing this, but once again death was not her enemy tonight.

It was difficult crossing the swiftly moving river and several times she honestly believed she would drown. But at last she felt the bank and climbed nearly froze from the watery grave. Now completely frozen to the bone she wished nothing more than to lay down on the soft looking snow and rest. Instead she struggled to her feet and once again attempted to run. For she knew that to rest would be to freeze to death.

The blizzard was so bad now she could see nothing but white in all directions. Her limbs were numb, her hands felt like they were both frozen and on fire, and she couldn't stop shaking, but still she pressed forward more out of animal instinct then anything.

She ran into trees and rocks at every turn. For all she knew she was going in circles.

As she held her hand out trying to see what her eyes could not she caught hold of something that felt stronger then wood…something metal?

Feeling her way along the metal bars she suddenly tripped and all her weight was forced forward causing the metal object to shift.

 _It's a gate!_

With great effort she pushed again and the metal moved once more allowing her to move passed it into the white blankness beyond.

The wind whistled through her ears, causing her frozen dress to cling to her and making her fingers and toes stiff and unbending.

She wondered blindly, arms outstretched until she felt sure there was no end in sight and surely she would fall off the edge of the world.

Tears froze in her eyes as exhaustion and cold held her down. Oh she was tired…so tired…all she wanted was to sleep…please….sleep.

Her hands were so numb she didn't at first realize that she had touched something. But there it was. It felt like a tree, it was wood, but it was so large!

Inching her way along she felt trying to find her way around this enormous tree! When her fingers grazed a large metal circle.

 _A DOOR!_ Her weary mind screamed in relief.

With what little strength she had left she gave a mighty push and fell out of the cold into darkness.

Pushing back against the wind with all her might she managed to close the door behind her!

Resting her head against the wood she tried to breathe normally but she was shaking uncontrollably and couldn't stop the sound of her teeth chattering.

 _W-Where am I? W-W-What is this place?_

A faint light shown from behind her. Jacqueline very slowly managed to coax her body to turn towards the light that was getting nearer. Still using the door for support she gave up half turned and rested her head against the wood. When out of the darkness a voice spoke.

"Belle?"


	15. Chapter 14: Castle in the Woods

**Ok boys and girls let us have a talk. I know many of you are mad about my killing Belle. You want the perfect ending for Belle and her Prince, Gaston's death and all those complications to simply vanish. (Am I right?)**

 **But! You already have that ending! The movie was the perfect telling of this story with the perfect ending we all wanted.**

 **Now is our chance to have a different story that hasn't been told yet.**

 **Please Review and as always Thank You for Reading.**

 **Chapter 14: Castle in the Woods**

He had been on his way to the study when he felt a gust of wind blow down the dark hallway. It was late and most everyone else was asleep, but he didn't sleep much these days. He motioned for the page carrying the candelabra to follow him as he made his way slowly toward the main door.

As they rounded the corner he saw what appeared to be woman leaning wearily against the door like it was the only thing keeping her standing. Motioning for the light to be higher he walked closer his curiosity peaked.

As the light reached her face he froze…a faint hope formed in his heart.

 _It can't be!_

Before he could even think to stop himself he spoke her name, his voice filled with hope.

"Belle?"

She turned and disappointment filled him. There was most certainly a strong resemblance. But it wasn't Belle, but who was she?

Startling violet eyes stared back at him. She was shaking uncontrollably from the cold. Her arms were wrapped around her middle as if she was in pain and even in this faint light he could see her lips had turned a worrying shade of blue. She was exhausted and seemed confused, but one thing that was horribly clear was the fear in her eyes.

Jacqueline turned to the voice. A man stood in the small patch of light, he was stooped over resting heavily on a cane while his other hand clutched his chest over his heart and his face was contorted in pain. The last thing she remembered seeing were his light blue eyes that were filled with so much sadness, and something else, concern? And then everything went black.

He watched her eyes roll back in her head as she crumpled to the ground unconscious. Turning to the page he commanded.

"Get Help!"

The boy set down the candlestick and disappeared into the darkness. With great effort he managed to lower himself to the floor and place her head in his lap. Taking off his long coat was difficult but he managed to drape it over her and then commenced to rub her arms frantically trying to return the warmth to her body.

He knew she most likely couldn't hear him because he suspected she was going into shock, but he spoke all the same.

"Don't worry you are safe here…We will keep you safe."

 _2 days later_

" _Her fever has broken, I believe she will make a complete recovery._ "

" _So she will be alright?_ "

Jacqueline listened to the voices, but all around her was darkness. Where were they coming from?

" _Yes, it is remarkable she didn't die out there in the snow! I am convinced only a few more minutes and she would have._ "

" _Well thankfully she didn't. If you'll excuse me I must tell the master._ "

The voices disappeared and silence returned taking her back down into the darkness.

Many hours passed before she awoke again, and when she opened her eyes she felt for sure she must be dreaming.

High above her head hung a canopy of deep royal blue velvet with golden cords and fringe edging the sides. She could just imagine a million silver stars winking at her as if it were the night sky. Dragging her gaze down she looked at the covers. She was buried up to her neck beneath a thick comforter of powder blue that was covered with intricate designs of leaves and climbing vines all done in golden thread. It was so warm and soft she wondered if it was full of feathers.

Looking over the foot of the bed which seemed to stretch forever in all directions she saw a warm fire blazing in the fireplace across the room.

 _Where am I?_

She moved the blanket to the side and sat on the edge of the bed. Her arms felt like lead and she was actually tired from the effort. Ignoring her bodies obvious warning signs that she should stay where she was she stood, and immediately regretted the decision as the room started to spin.

Grabbing a nearby chair to steady herself she closed her eyes and took deep breaths trying to slow down her spinning head. Opening her eyes slowly looked around the room that could have fit the entire home of her childhood.

 _Where are my clothes?_

Looking down she saw she wore a nightgown that was clearly worth more than anything she had ever owned. Taking a moment of reverence she allowed her fingers to brush the lace cuffs and felt goosebumps on her arm at the feel of the silken threads. Looking back around the room she saw no evidence of her clothes anywhere. She wasn't too concerned about this at first but then a horrifying thought struck her.

 _What if whoever found me tries to send me back!_

That was NOT going to happen!

Using various objects to support herself she crossed the floor to an armoire. If her clothes weren't here maybe there was some she could take. She knew she should have felt guilty at even the thought of stealing but clearly whoever owned this place could afford to buy some new clothes.

Her disappointment and frustration were great at finding only a pair of slippers and a silken robe in the armoire, both were also blue. She was definitely noticing a color scheme here. She liked the color personally but whoever had decorated this room seemed to have an obsession.

 _It will have to do._

Some of her strength was returning to her along with her increasing desire to leave this place before she was forced to pay for having staid, or worse they sent her back to where she came from.

Pulling on the robe she found it to be a good fit but a tad short. Next the slippers which were also on the snug side. Her heals fell of the back a good half an inch but she figured she would just keep to her toes once outside. On instinct she was about to go make the bed out of habit before leaving when she realized.

 _You are stealing this lady's slippers Jacqueline do you really think she will thank you for making the bed?_

Grabbing the large brass door handle with both hands she turned it slowly and as quietly as possible. She was a little impressed at how the door swung on its hinges without even the slightest noise. Looking both ways she exited the room and made her way down the long hall.

She wondered forever, down staircases, through corridors, past expansive drawing rooms, and through countless galleries until her head had begun once again to spin. At first she had supposed this place to be a small Chateau of some kind but now it was obvious that she had grossly underestimated the magnitude of the structure.

She had so far been able to get by unnoticed and she had begun to believe that she had finally made it to the servant's level which should have an exit from this labyrinth when coming behind her she heard voices.

"What do you mean she's gone?"

"She is gone Sir!"

"Well she couldn't have gotten far…"

Jacqueline was pretty sure she was the one who was gone and that they were looking for her.

Providence was on her side for just a little ways further she saw a door. Hurrying as fast as she could in the ill-fitting slippers she bolted through the door and didn't even bother closing it behind her. Sure enough she now stood on a gravel path. She supposed that when it wasn't covered in snow this must be a garden.

Hearing footsteps from behind she began to run again but it wasn't long before she began to feel dizzy and had to stop. After taking several gulps of air she once again heard the faint sound of footsteps. Looking around frantically she noticed a large wooden sliding door.

She ran for it, sliding the heavy door just enough to slip inside and immediately closing it as fast as she could before whoever was looking for her caught up. Anxiously awaiting her chance to once again flee she waited with her hands on the door ready to open it at any moment. When she suddenly felt hot breath on her neck making her hair stand on end.

Slowly she turned.

She found herself staring into the eyes of a large black stallion who whinnied at the intruder to his domain.

Jacqueline's heart stopped. She was deathly afraid of horses ever since she had witnessed a girl in her village be killed by one when she was six. Since that day she had stanchly refused to go near one and kept her distance from even the smallest pony. And here staring back at her was a horse that was taller than any she had ever seen before.

She was to scared even to scream though her mouth moved to make the sound that never escaped her throat.

The great animal could sense her fear and began to act in response. Lifting his large hooves he pounded the ground. Jacqueline scrambled away only to find herself staring face to face with more of the terrifying beasts. Backed into a corner she slumped to the ground and covered her head with her arms sure that at any moment she would be trampled to death just like Adele all those years ago.

The horses suddenly all became excited, whining and clomping there hooves against the stable floor. It didn't matter that they were all in stalls she was sure it wouldn't hold them.

Jacqueline began to shake from the fear coursing through her bones.

" _Please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me…_ "

She flinched when a hand kindly touched her head. Squeezing her eyes shut certain that the horses had broken out and come for her. She didn't even realize that the animals no longer made any noise but stood calmly in their stalls.

"Hurt you! Why Mademoiselle no one will hurt you here."

Jacqueline opened her eyes and looked up into the smiling face of an old man who had all the kindness of the world in him. His large eyes were slightly hidden by his tiny spectacles which didn't seem to fit on his nose which resembled a long candle which has begun to meltingly droop at the end. His face was covered with wrinkles and his limbs were stick thin but despite his obviously advanced age he used no cane.

The kind stranger held out a hand and helped her stand.

"Now let us get you back to bed eh? You shouldn't be out in the cold like this."

Like a child Jacqueline allowed herself to be led by the elderly gentleman out of the stables and back into the grand building.

She was still to shaken to talk but that didn't seem to matter to him for he had no trouble filling the time it took to walk back to her room.

"My name Mademoiselle is Lumiere, I am the steward of the master's household. Those these days I must admit it is a title in name only for Chip has taken on all my responsibilities and would have had the title long ago too. But he has allowed me to keep it out of consideration. Such a dear boy."

As they walked he informed her that she was in a Castle not a Chateau and that if she should need anything the servants would bring it to her.

"And if you should want to go exploring again." He gave her a knowing smile.

"Just remember that your room is called the blue room. That way if you should get lost a servant can help you back."

"That's a good name for it." Jacqueline said and the little man seemed delighted at the sound of her voice.

"Yes it is, the master has a fondness for the color but that room was used by the Countess Catharine de Valier on her infrequent visits to court and she had rather an obsession with the color for its supposed calming affects. She suffered from nerves you see."

"Will she be mad that I took her slippers?" Jacqueline didn't know why she asked such a stupid question. Of course a Countess would be angry a peasant had taken her slippers. It was just that she liked this little man very much and wanted to talk to him. He reminded her of her Grandfather, whom she hadn't thought of in years.

"I doubt it since the ancient lady died at her estate two years ago." The steward seemed to find this very funny but Jacqueline had a hard time seeing the humor in death.

"Besides very few of the rooms are used now days. With the exception of the advisers very few courtiers grace us with their presence these days, except for Christmas that is."

With that he turned to her with a large smile.

"That is why we are all so pleased to have you as our guest! Life is very unnerving for a servant who is not serving."

With that they arrived at the door which he opened for her with a flourish. After coming up from his bow he looked at her a moment unmasked.

Jacqueline wondered why he looked at her so intently, like he felt he knew her somehow.

"I will send a maid up with soup, but right now it is back to bed with you!"

With that he closed the door behind her and Jacqueline could hear the shuffling of his feet down the hall. Suddenly feeling exhausted she decided to do as he had suggested and climbed wearily into the soft bed. If the soup ever did arrive she was unaware of it because she immediately fell into a dreamless sleep.

 _The next morning_

Jacqueline's exhausted sleep lasted the remainder of that day and well into the next. She didn't know it at first but when she awoke it was already ten o'clock in the morning. Upon opening her eyes she was greeted by the smiling face of a woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties with dark hair pulled tightly back into a bun under her mop cap and a spring of freckles covering her face. Even her green eyes had flakes of brown in them.

Her face was a perfect oval like the rim of a cup and was bursting with curiosity.

"Good morning Mademoiselle, my name is Porcelain Potts. With that she gave a little curtsy and moved to help Jacqueline sit up against the pillows.

Jacqueline had gotten over her initial fear because of the kindness of Monsieur Lumiere. However she was still wary that these people were just waiting for a chance to send her back to her father's. Deciding that if they didn't know who she was it would be harder for them to find out where she came from she made up her mind to not tell them anything relating to herself.

By now Porcelain had finished fluffing the pillows and was busy making sure the covers were tucked snuggly around the bed. Jacqueline had never been waited on before and didn't know exactly what to do so she just sat there waiting for the maid to speak.

The rotund little maid sighed in satisfaction at the fact that her charge was now effectively imprisoned in a cocoon of warmth. Jacqueline attempted to smile in return hoping that would make her stop looking at her like she was trying to remember where they had met before.

The maid snapped out of her daze at the sound of a knock at the door. Bouncing over she opened the door and an equally chubby man stepped in holding a tray of food. He whispered something at the maid before glancing at Jacqueline who once again had little choice but to smile in return.

Apparently this was a bad idea because he got the same quizzical look on his face and only left the room when the maid closed the door on his foot.

Porcelain hopped back over to the bed and set the tray across Jacqueline's lap. Immediately her stomach began to growl in response and she shoveled food into her mouth like a wild animal. The maid didn't seem at all offended by this and instead began rummaging through the wardrobe whilst the girl ate.

"That was my brother Claret."

Trying to be polite Jacqueline tried to think of something to say in response between mouthfuls of food.

"Do you have many siblings?"

"Oh my yes! Let's see, the oldest is Earl he is the butler. Then Camellia, and Pepper are maids, Lavender and Herb are gardeners, Honey, Crystal, and Claret work in the kitchens, Gray and Ceramic are footmen, Wilton is a stable hand, Chip is the steward in training and I am the housekeeper. At your serves."

Once again the woman curtsied her little cap bobbing atop her head.

 _And I thought I had a big family._

She was just finishing the last of her toast when Porcelain came to take the tray away and help her out of the large bed. She left Jacqueline standing there as she went to retrieve something from the armoire, Jacqueline figured it must be the robe since there was nothing else in the closet when she looked before. But to her amazement the housekeeper returned with a beautiful dress of light pink with scalloped edges and delicate sleeves.

Normally Jacqueline didn't care for the color but this dress was so exquisite and intricate that the color was the last thing she noticed.

"Madame de la Grande Bouche was up late taking this in to fit you."

Reverently Jacqueline touched the gown.

"Who is Madame de la Grande Bouche?"

Porcelain giggled "She is a lady in waiting, but you can just call her Madame."

"And what should I call you?"

"Me? Why my dear just call me Ms. Potts."

Ms. Potts helped Jacqueline out of the nightgown and began lacing her into various articles of underclothing. There was a chemise then a corset, petticoat, silk stockings, garters, satin slippers and then at last the gown. Jacqueline looked at her reflection in the full length mirror as Ms. Potts tied the satin sash just under the bust line giving the silhouetted empire waist that was the fashion.

Jacqueline turned first this way then that admiring the excellent fit and the overall splendor. There is something special about when a girl wears a beautiful dress. It makes her feel like the loveliest creature in the world.

"Now let's do something with that hair."

She motioned her over to a vanity and commanded her to take a seat. Jacqueline obeyed still in awe of the beauty around her. Her hair was now a wrathful nest of entangled curls, but Ms. Potts didn't seem daunted.

Picking up a silver backed brush she braved the attack! Pulling through the curls with a vengeance Jacqueline thought her neck would snap in two! She had to dig her claws into the chair to keep from taking the brush away and hitting her with it.

Ms. Potts brushed her hair until it was glossy and smooth. Brushing the hair over her hand until the curls bowed to her will and formed large shining chestnut waves and curls according to the fashion she wished. Pulling the sides away from Jacqueline's face she fastened the locks with a large pink ribbon. Then beaming she sat down the brush and admired her creation.

Jacqueline felt she looked rather childish but none the less pretty. She was going to thank the housekeeper but she never got a chance for once again there was a knock on the door.

Ms. Potts scurried to answer, opening the ornate double doors Lumiere entered a smile on his ancient face.

"All ready I see, shall we?"

He held out his arm to lead her but Jacqueline didn't move.

"Where are we going?"

"Why to see the Master."


	16. Chapter 15: Shadows from the Past

**Ok I reworked Chapter 10: Alone, (Belle's death) So if you would like to read it I would appreciate the feedback.**

 **Also I really Appreciate all the Reviews Please Keep em coming they really help the motivation process.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 15: Shadows from the Past**

As they walked down another hallway Jacqueline saw two more servants cleaning windows up ahead. It was snowing again so all work outside had to be suspended. Apparently having so many hands be idle was unacceptable and all previously unoccupied servants regardless of station were now busy cleaning the castle's hundreds of windows.

So far they had passed a good fifteen doing just that. And each one had greeted them in the exact same way as she was sure these two were about to.

Sure enough! Upon hearing the slow shuffle of Monsieur Lumiere's gait and the soft tapping of her own satin shoes the two servants halted their work and turned. Bowing slightly and then (this was what was so frustrating) staring blatantly at Jacqueline as she passed. Their expressions full of curiosity and slight familiarity. Like they so desperately wanted to ask her something.

Jacqueline gritted her teeth in irritation. She wished they would just come out and say whatever it was they so desperately seemed to want to ask her.

If her guide noticed her annoyance he didn't let on. Instead he prattled off an endless stream of pleasant (though slightly one sided) conversation.

Jacqueline tried to pay attention but her thoughts wouldn't focus on the elderly man. They were somewhere else entirely.

 _The Master. Who is the Master? How does he have a castle I wonder…maybe he is a Count or a Duke or something… Duke makes more sense, he must be a duke. I wonder what he wants to see me for. Maybe to throw me out…but he could have done that without sending for me so that couldn't be it…unless he is an unkind misfit who takes delight in the sufferings of others…totally plausible…though not preferable._

She was so deep in thought she didn't notice Lumiere halt and nearly knocked the poor man down. Looking forward she saw a large wooden door that was taller than some buildings. Its dark wood glossed and glistened over the intricate carvings that decorated its surface. She didn't have time to examine all of them but she did catch sight of a fawn, a raven, and a large animal that appeared to be part lion, bear, and wolf. By far it was the most fascination beast on the door.

Lumiere knocked on the door and the echo sent a chill up her spine. She watched the large handle turn and the door slowly open. Out walked a tall thin man with a hooked nose and no hair except the ones growing out of his ears. He looked down at them before moving to the side and walking down the hall they had just came through. In his arms was a large book that looked like it would snap his twig body from the sheer weight.

"That is the minister of diplomacy." Lumiere said and then entered through the large doors obviously expecting her to follow him.

She did so and found herself in a room that looked nothing like she had expected based on its elaborate door. She had thought that the room behind such a door would resemble the council room of a conqueror or the laboratory of a mad genius, or at least an ornate receiving chamber that would strike aw into her very soul! But no…it was nothing more than a simple study, with simple furnishings, and only two chairs…nice chairs…but only two chairs.

"The Mademoiselle is here Master."

Jacqueline turned in the direction that Lumiere had spoken. Standing with his back to her looking out a window was a man in a long Maroon coat, the tails of which nearly brushed the floor. His hair hung loose passed his shoulders. It was red but she could see it was streaked with white. It reminded her of a picture she had seen once of an old lion whose full mane flowed behind him shimmering in the sun.

His shoulders were hunched and oddly askew like he was resting all his weight on something. When he turned she saw that it was a cane he was using to bear the brunt of his weight. He leaned over the cane, hunched like he was in constant pain. And over his chest he held a hand clutching over his heart, the stance looked very familiar to him like he had been in such a position for many years and could no longer stand straight even if he had wanted to.

Allowing her eyes to travel to his face she let out a little gasp of surprise. He looked so sad it made her heart lurch with sympathy. It was also very evident by his permanently contorted brow that the poor man was indeed in a great deal of pain. He just seemed so weary of carrying such a heavy burdens that she felt the urge to give him some words of encouragement (not that she had any to give.) She felt he must be at least 65 and would have been truly shocked to learn that he was a mere 46 years old. Only one year older then her own father. But he seemed so much older, sicker, and…..sad.

When she saw his light blue eyes then she recognized him.

 _He was the man in the light!_

Jacqueline gave him a deep curtsy. This man had saved her life, and for that she was grateful.

He bowed his head in return and smiled. He scratched his full beard that to be honest looked a little unkept and motioned for her to take a seat.

"Thank you Lumiere that will be all."

The spindly old man bowed again and gave Jacqueline a reassuring wink before leaving the two alone.

With great dignity and not much speed the "Master" as Jacqueline had come to think of him took a seat in the large chair across from hers. Both chairs were angled to face the fire and a small table was between them holding a tea service.

He offered her a cup which she accepted and then the two sat in silence sipping their tea.

At last Jacqueline could take the silence no longer.

"Are you going to make me leave?"

He seemed in no hurry to answer and calmly finished his glass before returning it to the table and looking kindly at her.

"Do you wish to leave?"

The question caught her off guard, she had just assumed that she would be forced out at any moment. She thought about that for a long time looking into the fire with her tea cup resting on her lap.

"I don't have anywhere else to go." She said in a small voice.

He looked at her with such kindness.

"Mademoiselle, you may stay here as long as you wish…you have my word."

It felt like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she could once again breathe. No one was going to make her go back.

Feeling much more relaxed Jacqueline leaned back in the large chair and stretched her legs forward slightly, taking another sip of her tea, a small smile on her lips.

He continued to study her in this rare unguarded instance. He could already tell that she was a girl who didn't share much. He also got the sense that she was used to fighting against everyone and for everything. He began to wonder if she had ever been given a gift, with no strings attached.

Now that her anxiety was passed Jacqueline's curiosity returned.

"Who are you?" she asked

His eyebrows raised in surprise and she thought she detected his lips twitch into a smile beneath that bushy beard.

"I could ask the same of you."

The smile fell from her lips and she stiffened once again, her guard back up.

He looked at her knowingly.

"But I have the feeling you would rather not share that information just yet."

She didn't respond but continued to watch him suspiciously.

"It doesn't matter, you are my guest and would be rude to press you with questions. I told my servants as much and I do hope they have not caused you any offense?"

He seemed very concerned about this. She had to admit she was curious as to why no one had asked her anything about herself, now she realized he had commanded them not to. Allowing her to divulge information in her own time. It was the most respect anyone had ever shown her and she sat up a little straighter at the knowledge.

"Everyone has been very kind…..but they keep watching me….could you possibly tell me why that is?"

This time it was his turn to stiffen. He took so long in answering she began to be afraid that she had asked something she shouldn't have.

Taking a deep breath that sounded shallow and labored he answered.

"I had a friend once who lived here at the castle…many years ago. You resemble her."

Jacqueline nodded her head. So that explained it, she looked like someone they used to know, from what she observed whoever she had been she was very special to all who lived here.

Once again the smile returned to his eyes and he answered her original question.

"As for who I am, my name is Adam and I am the Prince and Master of this castle."

Jacqueline stood in shock dropping her tea cup to the floor which rolled away on the expensive Persian rug.

"You're the PRINCE!"

The Prince seemed alarmed that she had stood so quickly and put an arm out like he was afraid she might faint or something.

"You're the Prince of the Principality. YOU! YOU'RE THE RULER!"

"Yes." He replied.

Immediately Jacqueline sunk into another curtsy, this one much lower than the one before.

 _He's the bloody ruler of the entire land! And I stumbled through his front door!_

She had had no idea that the ruler of her small principality lived so close to her small village. And was suddenly humbled to be in his presence.

 _Oh if only Madame Madeleine d'Aboville could see this!_

Madeleine had once told Jacqueline that she couldn't greet a cow properly and right now she prayed she was proving her wrong as she put all her concentration into raising gracefully from her curtsey the way Madeleine had showed her that day.

"My dear girl are you alright?"

"Y-Yes it's just, I had no idea, and I mean I never would have thought…I just can't believe I am meeting you!"

"Well believe me the honor is mine. Not many grown men let along young women would have braved a storm like the one you did. I must admit I was impressed."

 _They would if they had to._ She thought bitterly.

The Prince motioned for her to reclaim her seat which she did after scrambling to rescue the cup that had rolled under the table.

"If you need anything while you are here you need only ask. Nothing in this castle is off limits to you, you may go wherever you wish. Please I hope you will feel most welcome here."

"I will….Thank you your Highness."

He waved his free hand (the one that wasn't holding his chest.) As if it was nothing.

As if on cue the door opened and in stepped the minister of diplomacy. He gave a bow and Jacqueline thought his glasses might slide off his crooked nose so low was his bow.

 _But nothing else would do for the man who saved us from the revolutionaries._ Jacqueline thought with pride.

"I am sorry to interrupt Sir but these matters can no longer wait."

"Yes of course, I am sorry my dear but I am afraid we will have to continue our talk later."

Jacqueline rose and walked past the minister who didn't so much as spare her a glance. With her hand on the door handle she hesitated.

Turning back she looked at the prince and said.

"My name is Jacqueline." And with that she left, leaving a smile on his face.

"She does look so much like…"

"Like whom Sir?"

"Never mind." he turned his attention to the Minister.

"Now what is this all about Longfellow?"

"Napoleon Sir."

The Prince's smile faded and his normally serious demeanor returned. Actually Longfellow had been a little shocked to see the Prince smiling when he had entered. He was a kind man yes and a good ruler. But his life was not one full of amusements. The minister thought this girl just might be good for him if she helped lift some of the sorrow his master had carried with him for years.

"That Bastard doesn't rest does he? Well, if he wants my kingdom…he will have to take it from me first!"


	17. Chapter 16: Memories

**Please Please Please REVIEW!**

 **Also, guess who's back!**

 **Chapter 16: Memories**

 _2 weeks later_

These past two weeks had been pure bliss for Jacqueline. Every morning she had risen when she wished. Ate a large filling breakfast that was better than any she had ever cooked and sat curled in front of the fire like a lazy cat for as long as she desired.

When the afternoon arrived so did Ms. Potts to help her dress in a gown that was even more beautiful than the one the day before. After arranging Jacqueline's hair Ms. Potts would often stay and visit with her awhile and Jacqueline greatly enjoyed the comradery that was growing between the two of them.

After dressing she usually went exploring. Even in the two weeks she had been here she had still been unable to see the castle in its entirety not to mention the grounds (excluding the stables of course.)

After spending the day exactly as she wished she would return to her room where once again Ms. Potts would help her dress for dinner. Personally she didn't see the point in changing clothes so many times but her opinion wasn't sought out on the matter.

After dressing much more formally then before she would join the Prince for dinner in the dining room. Sometimes Minister Longfellow would join them or some other such politician like a general or something. But Jacqueline found she much preferred when it was just the two of them. They didn't talk much but that was ok. It was a comfortable silence, and when they did speak it was also quite pleasant.

At least that had been the routine up until a few days ago. When Chip had informed her that the Master was busy and couldn't eat dinner with her. At first she hadn't minded. Reveling in the solitude. But it had quickly lost its luster and now she only felt a frustrating loneliness.

She didn't know why she felt that way, it wasn't like she was alone. The castle housed roughly 100 people not including the occasional visitor. According to Monsieur Lumiere they were running on a mere bare bones staff and if they were running the place correctly there would have been roughly triple that number. Not to mention courtiers and ambassadors.

That was a dizzying amount but at the moment she would have gladly welcomed them all. She currently sat curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace watching the logs sputter and crackle.

The sun had returned for the first time in weeks, just barely beginning the task of melting the mountains of snow that had gathered burying them even deeper in the forest. Though Monsieur Chip had said she shouldn't become too accustomed to the warmth because the winter was far from over.

With that in mind she should have been outside enjoying herself but she hadn't moved from the rug since rising.

Laying with her ear to the floor she brought her knees to her chest making herself as small as possible. Trying to hide from the streak of sunlight that was coming through the window pane and slowly moving its way across the blue and gold Persian rug.

The sun was far too sure a thing and she currently needed to think…sunlight was an obstacle to clear thought.

It had been five days since she had last seen the Prince…roughly. She had to admit she hadn't paid much attention to the days passing at first but as her frustration grew so did her notice of them.

She supposed the reason she was so displeased with the lack of his company was because he was the only one who treated her like an equal.

Well maybe equal was the wrong word. The servants were all very kind but depending on their age they treated her either as child in need of protecting or some great lady who was above themselves.

Not that she minded either of these things. It felt nice when Ms. Potts chastised her for going out without a cloak. Or Monsieur Lumiere walked with her through the endless corridors explaining the different paintings or tapestries with a grandfatherly air. Or when one of the other servants snuck her little treats from the kitchen when Ms. Potts wasn't looking.

But the Prince was different, more…fatherly. Though she hesitated to use that word. She personally had little regard for the concept of fathers. Not seeing what good they did in this life, yet it seemed the only word that fit.

He was a kind, comforting presence…and she missed him.

The clicking sound of the doorknob opening drifted through the room but she did not hear it being too busy trying to decipher the character of those around her and their value in her life.

"Jacqueline? My dear what are you doing? It is past two!"

Ms. Potts threw open the heavy drapes which had only been cracked before, allowing the sunlight to pour in. Jacqueline scurried away from the offending light by clambering over the bedframe and burying her head beneath the pile of feather pillows.

"Now, really!" Ms. Potts reprimanded as she pulled the pillows away. Her cover having been removed by the enemy, Jacqueline covered her head with her arms and moaned in protest.

"Honestly child, one would think you were poisoned."

Jacqueline uncovered her face at this trying to figure out the logic behind that statement. Ms. Potts took advantage of her moment of weakness and pulled her from the bed with a force that was surprising given her rotund figure.

Jacqueline gave up the fight and stood at attention for Ms. Potts inspection.

The portly housekeeper crossed her arms in disapproval at her ragged appearance. Wrinkled nightdress, tangled mass of hair, despite Ms. Potts instructions to braid it before going to sleep, and a pale face that hadn't felt fresh air in far too long.

"Well, that is enough!"

Taking her young charge by the arm she drug her to the porcelain washbasin and pushed her face into the cold water. Jacqueline sputtered and flailed in rebellion but Ms. Potts just calmly began to rub soap onto her face with a vigor that made Jacqueline fear her skin would fall off.

Once deemed clean she begrudgingly sat in front of the mirror whilst Ms. Potts arranged her chestnut locks in an elegant Grecian style which put her hair up, highlighting her high cheekbones. But also leaving one curl down and laid over her shoulder showing off her long neck. The finishing touch was two black ribbons that were laid across the style giving the impression of a tiara.

Altogether it looked very sophisticated and Jacqueline felt some of her sour mood dissipate at the sight of the finished product.

Ms. Potts now wore a smug little smile seeing that her efforts were beginning to pay off. Waltzing confidently to the armoire she withdrew a gorgeous black velvet dress.

It was simple but elegant with long sleeves, a square neckline, high empire waist, and a row of tiny velvet covered buttons running down the back.

Jacqueline looked at the supple velvet with longing.

"For your dark mood."

Jacqueline gave Ms. Potts the look of a pouting child at that comment, but the older woman just smiled lovingly and began to undo the numerous buttons on the gown.

After dressing her Ms. Potts placed a beautifully embroidered woolen shawl in her hands. Then she lightly scooted her out the bedroom door.

"Now go get some fresh air before you're old and crippled."

 _3 hours later_

She had wondered aimlessly for a while and now she was sitting on a stool in the kitchens watching the chef decorate a cake with little figures made of marzipan. It was a very impressive cake and Jacqueline was quite mesmerized by it.

She had lost count of how many layers of actual cake he had used to create rolling hills and valley shapes on a wooden board that was longer than some tables. Then he had covered it in fondant which he painstakingly painted with coloring to resemble green pastures and hills. Next a river was created running down a hill into the fondant valley below and little candy rocks were placed in its way to give the impression of a babbling brook.

As if this wasn't wonderful enough next the chef had created trees and flowers out of marzipan and had strategically placed them along the river bed and over a hill creating an enchanting forest.

Next, a large temple made of hardened sugar was set atop the highest point with white sugar columns and edible gold paint decorations. Now he was making and placing tiny people and fantastical looking beasts all around the scene.

There was a unicorn, several lions, sheep, and many animals Jacqueline didn't know the names of. The people were dressed strangely with little crowns or helmets. One even had the lower half of a goat instead of human legs, and she even thought she spied a mermaid lurking behind a rock. The chef had told her that it was a Greek temple and that the figures were ones from mythology but she had no idea what any of that meant. Still it was magical.

The chef put the last finishing touch on his masterpiece and then ordered several of his assistants to carry it into another room where it wouldn't risk melting the sugar from the heat of the ovens. Jacqueline watched six grown men struggle under the weight of the enormous cake and slowly make their way through two double doors while the chef anxiously hovered over his creation.

Once they had left Jacqueline began to wonder how else she could entertain herself.

She didn't have long to ponder before Wilton came crashing into the kitchen and ran into one of the scullery maids.

Seeing her sitting on a stool he ran over to her.

Wilton was actually Porcelain's (Ms. Potts) older brother. But he had suffered an accident when he was young that left him not quite right in the head. He had a stutter and often fidgeted his hands when he became confused or nervous. That was why he worked in the stables, he got along much better with animals then people.

Jacqueline had a soft spot for Wilton. She didn't open up much, something everyone in the castle had noticed. But Wilton was like a child and she felt a certain amount of protective instinct for him.

"Wilton watch where you are going!" screeched Lavender who had just managed to save a pot of soup from a near death because of Wilton's charge.

The tall stable hand ignored his younger sister and instead grabbed Jacqueline by the hand and began to pull her towards the door.

"C-Come see! C-C-Come see!"

She had no choice but to follow, practically running to keep up with the gangly man who pulled her along in his haste out the door into the snow covered gardens. Not noticing that she had no cloak.

Jacqueline used her free hand to wrap the shawl around her shoulders as they ran along the gravel paths that had just been recently shoveled clear.

"Wilton, where are we going?"

"C-Come see!"

"See what? SLOW DOWN!"

He complied and stopped. Turning to look at her with an excited grin on his face.

"R-Rabbits! J-J-ack, R-Rabbits!"

Wilton often gave others shortened abbreviations of their own names since he found it difficult to pronounce complicated words. So for him at least Jacqueline had been shortened to Jack. It was ironic Jacqueline thought seeing as how her father would have much preferred it if her name really had been Jack, for then she would have been a boy.

Once again Wilton took her hand and pulled her across the gardens. Careful to avoid the stables on the way. Even Wilton understood not to take her near the horses, something everyone had become mindful of since Lumiere explained finding her terrified in the stables. Of course Jacqueline was unaware of this fact along with many other countless kindnesses that had been performed on her behalf since arriving.

Finally Wilton stopped in front of a building that looked much like a stable except the doors were much smaller. Hesitantly she followed the stable hand as he happily rushed inside.

The building was full of different sized cages, stalls, and hutches for random animals. And in fact she was greeted by the squawking of a pair of prized geese when she passed their cage.

It took her a little bit of searching until she found Wilton again. But when she did it was an adorable sight.

Sitting on the floor with his long legs sprawled out before him sat Wilton. And carefully held close to his chest was a beautiful little rabbit with fur the color of ash and white feet nibbling on the stump of a carrot Wilton had snuck for him from the kitchen.

The rabbit practically disappeared in his big hand but Wilton was careful not to hold it too tightly and his childlike face was crinkled in deep concentration and fascination.

Resting on her heels Jacqueline squatted beside Wilton and put a hand out to stroke the little thing's fur.

Wilton quickly put a hand up protectively in her path. Obviously afraid she might accidently pet to hard and injure his little friend.

"D-Don't…T-t-t-ouch…J-just l-look."

"Pleas may I pet him Wilton? I promise to be careful."

Wilton looked first at her and then the bunny. He seemed to be thinking very hard about his decision, not wanting to make a mistake.

"Ok, b-but b-be nice."

Jacqueline nodded and then very slowly stroked the small animal with just the very tips of her fingers so Wilton would be sure that she meant it no harm.

His face broke into a silly grin of joy.

"H-He l-likes you, J-J-Jack!"

"I like him too…and it looks like you take really good care of him."

Wilton nodded his head vigorously to insure her that he took his responsibilities very seriously.

Jacqueline smiled in approval. After a few minutes she became cold and decided to go back to the castle. Wilton wanted to stay so she left him behind.

As she walked back across the gravel path she pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders. Looking across the landscape she saw something she hadn't noticed before. It was a large building made completely of glass except for about five feet of brick at its base. She wondered how such a large structure could have possibly escaped her notice.

Having absolutely no idea what such a thing could be she decided to investigate.

Opening the large wooden door was a challenge because of the ice that had formed on the hinges but she managed to pry it open. Upon entering she was met by a somewhat surprising sight.

Before her were rows upon rows of red roses…as far as they eye could see. Not a single other flower grew, it was nothing but the most exquisite red roses she had ever seen before in her life. And it made her heart stop.

"Enjoying the conservatory?"

Jacqueline would have jumped if she could at the unexpected voice but her feet were frozen to the ground where she stood.

She heard the sound of a cane hitting stone as he neared but still she couldn't will herself to look away from the garden of red.

 ** _The Prince_**

When she didn't turn he slowly made his way to stand beside her. Looking at her face she still didn't seem to see him, instead just staring at the mass of roses with an expression he could not judge.

He hadn't meant to follow her here, but he had felt the need to come to this place….as he so often did.

She looked pale in her black gown like she was in mourning. Her violet eyes seemed to have grown twice in size and she was hugging her arms around herself like she was afraid that if she let go something terrible would happen.

Concern filled him as he studied her. Jacqueline was an interesting girl. So strong headed and willful, yet he felt like emotionally she was just a little girl, too terrified to even cry. And if he had ever met someone in his life who was truly lost….it was her.

Without ever looking away from the flowers she asked in a small but surprisingly wooden voice.

"What is this place?"

A stab of pain hit his heart and he gripped his chest even tighter.

"I knew a woman once who loved roses. I built this for her."

Jacqueline nodded slightly and he was shocked to see tears glisten in her eyes. She didn't let them fall but he wished she would he felt it would help her to cry. A really good long cry for whatever it was she kept bottled up.

But she didn't, instead she blinked them away and her features settled into a cold mask.

"I _hate_ roses."

"Why?"

Her eyes took on a faraway look. She wasn't seeing the roses anymore she was somewhere completely different. Someplace painful and alone.

"My mother loved them….they were her favorite flower…But she died during the winter…and there weren't any roses to put on her grave….. …and when spring came and they would bloom I would think, about how much she loved them….and when she died…..there weren't any for me to give her…so I hate them."

A great heaviness settled on his chest causing even more pain to wrack him worn body. And a fear gripped his mind, one he could not bear to say out loud, but was real none the less.

 _Her mother is dead? Who was her mother?_

He wanted so desperately to ask, but he couldn't for fear it would make his worst nightmare a reality.

Trying to shake the horrible thought away he focused his attentions once again on Jacqueline.

"Come with me my dear."

 ** _Jacqueline_**

She followed him back to the castle and through endless hallways and up numerous staircases. Often times having to help the sickly man because he breathing would become labored so easily and it was apparent that the pain he was always in had become worse since their conversation in the conservatory. Jacqueline worried she might have been the cause.

When they at last reached the drawing room he had guided her too the Prince's skin felt clammy, his breathing was ragged and his voice was hoarse. Jacqueline helped him to a sofa and rang for a servant.

Luckily Chip wasn't far away and came to help. After seeing the Master's condition he quickly rushed to retrieve his medicine. When he returned Jacqueline was shocked to see the tray piled high with various vials and herbs.

After taking several concoctions he assured a very concerned Chip that he was fine. After much reassuring the steward in training finally agreed to leave them alone, promising to return in several minutes with tea for the pair.

Once he had gone Jacqueline studied the Prince.

He didn't look fine. In fact he looked no better than before, possibly he looked even worse. Though he breathing at least had improved, his coloring certainly had not.

Wringing her hands slightly Jacqueline approached the sofa where the Prince sat. His head laid back and eyes closed in exhaustion.

"Your Highness?"

He opened his blue eyes and looked at her. He raised his eyebrows for her to continue.

Mustering her courage she spoke.

"I know it isn't my place but, those medicines that Monsieur Chip gave you don't seem to be working. Have you considered enlisting the service of a different physician? Maybe he could help you."

Jacqueline thought she saw a smile form beneath his red beard as he motioned for her to join him on the sofa.

She dutifully sat with all the grace Ms. Potts had managed to drill into her over the past weeks. She saw a look of approval and pride in his eyes at her new skills and she sat a little straighter.

"I have seen many doctors for many years. And I am afraid that from what I suffer there is no cure."

Jacqueline felt a great sadness at his words.

 _What could be wrong with him?_

"But let's not worry about such unpleasant thoughts. I have a question for you."

Jacqueline waited patiently.

"Do you know how to play chess?"

Jacqueline shook her head no and she thought she saw another smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

"Then it is high time you learned."

From that day on every afternoon regardless of his schedule the Prince dedicated an hour to teaching Jacqueline the art of chess. She was a quick study and he felt sure that in no time at all she would prove a formidable opponent.

They both began to look forward to this time together, and it held a special place in their hearts.

One day while playing he struck up a conversation that unintentionally shed some more light on her past.

"I am very glad to hear that you have made a friend of Wilton. He is a gentle soul who needs kindness."

Jacqueline nodded her head but her eyes never left the chess board. Her brow was furrowed whilst she calculated her next move. Maybe it was her split focus that made her speak so unreservedly but he wasn't sure.

"He reminds me of my brother Louis. He was only three when mama died so I had to raise him. He used to be very sweet but as he got older he began to take after the other boys until one day he didn't like me at all."

He was surprised she had mentioned her family at all, he was beginning to believe she didn't have one.

"How old is Louis now?"

"Eight…he would have been better if mama hadn't died. She could always bring out the best in us."

Before he knew what he had done he heard himself ask the question that had burned in his mind for so long.

"What was your mother's name Jacqueline?"

She paused for a long time. As she moved her Queen into the position of check-mate she answered him. Smiling as she won the game.

"Belle."

 _The Village_

Gaston sipped his beer absently whilst his mind worked.

It had been nearly a month since his daughter had runaway and drowned in the river. He couldn't say anyone was terribly sad about it except that one friend of hers, and maybe LaFou. Of his sons Louis had been the most upset but even he had moved on with relative ease.

Every seemed to accept her death with minimal effort…..except him….Something was wrong…..he didn't know what but his instincts told him that things weren't as they seemed.


	18. Chapter 17: Understanding

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **Chapter 17: Understanding**

 _Castle in the Forest_

A dark shadow had fallen over the castle smothering all those within. Even the sun had once again hid its face from them. Joining the suffocating sorrow. Jacqueline didn't understand what had happened to cause the change, but it was all around her.

No one spoke, none laughed, and even the heavy drapes remained drawn casting them all into darkness.

They didn't even seem able to look her in the eye and she found herself confused as to why this deep depression had befallen her friends.

Worst of all was the Prince. His health had deteriorated drastically, physicians had come and gone with no words of assurance to offer. She had neither seen nor heard of him for many days now. Regardless every afternoon, faithful as a hound she waited for him in the study, just in case he might come…he never did.

The lovely ivory chess set remained unused and the once fascinating castle became dreary and frigid.

She would lie awake at night worrying. What had happened? What was wrong? Would he ever return? Would she be denied the chance to say goodbye once again?

Huddled beneath the blankets in that grand room she felt so lonely and sad, one night she wondered if perhaps he felt the same way.

The thought had never occurred to her before…Could the prince, with all his devoted servants and his stately castle, actually be lonely?

The thought plagued her for many days as she wandered the halls aimlessly by herself.

One evening, quite by accident, she happened upon Monsieur Chip sitting in one of the many drawing rooms. She hadn't meant to intrude but as she tried to exit the room without being noticed she heard the faint sound of him crying.

Moved with compassion and for one of the first times in her life drawn from thinking of herself she approached him.

"Monsieur Chip, what is wrong."

He turned away, unable to look at her. Hurt and confusion filled her once again. She only wanted to help, why did he seem to dislike her all of the sudden.

"Please Monsieur, I don't know what I have done to offend everyone so, but if I can fix what I have wronged, please tell me how and I promise to do anything."

He looked at her this time and the pleading in her eyes filled him with regret. How selfish they had all been to have ignored her for so long. They had been so filled with their own sadness that they had forgotten the girl who so desperately needed their time and affection.

"My dear you have done nothing wrong."

He could tell by her expression that she did not believe him.

"Then why will no one talk to me? What has happened?"

"Mademoiselle it has nothing to do with you…then again it has everything to do with you, but not for the reason you think."

She waited patiently for him to continue.

"Many many, years ago, a woman lived here in the castle. She was very beautiful and resembled you a great deal. In those days the Master was a very different….man. And her kindness changed him. He fell in love with her and only her. However after a time she left the castle, we were all sure that was the end of it and that she hadn't cared for him after all. But lo and behold it turned out that she loved him as well. So the Master rode to get her and bring her back to the castle so they could be together…..But when he returned he was alone. Naturally we questioned him as to where the lady was, but he refused to answer and forbade any of us to mention her name. He has been alone with his grief ever since. As time passed he once again allowed the memory of her to flourish here, but nothing could change the fact that she was lost to him forever…..You see Jacqueline that is why no matter how many doctors visit, no matter how many physicians see him the Master continues to grow worse….He is dying Jacqueline, dying of a broken heart."

As she left the drawing room Jacqueline thought about what Monsieur Chip had told her. Once again the thought that perhaps he was just as lonely as she was presented itself.

She just wished she could help him somehow. He had been so kind to her, she may not have understood the complexities of the heart but Jacqueline knew what a life without kindness felt like. And she wished more than anything to repay the one who had given some of it back to her.

She stopped walking as an idea formed in her mind.

 _It wouldn't be much, but maybe, maybe it would make him happy…if only for a little while._

It was now dark outside though she couldn't tell because of the closed drapes but she braved the outdoors anyway.

Going to the magnificent conservatory of glass she opened the heavy door and walked inside. Ignoring the memories that surfaced at the sight of the rows of exquisite red roses she began her task.

 _This isn't about me, it is about helping him._

Perhaps it was a foolish task but it was borne of the desire to show love and kindness to another, and can those motivations ever truly be a waste?

As she worked breaking the long stems her hands began to bleed from the thorns that protected the lovely flowers with a vengeance. Ignoring her pains she continued on fearlessly until she held a large bouquet unmatched in its brilliance.

Taking her bounty she hurried back to the castle. Searching every nook and cranny she finally found a vase big enough. Unfortunately it already held a large bouquet of some odd looking flower that Jacqueline couldn't identify. Deciding they were ugly anyway she unceremoniously dumped the contents out the window and carefully arranged the roses in their stead.

Taking the vase she now began her quest to find someone to deliver them. But try as she might she just couldn't seem to locate a servant anywhere. She was becoming discouraged and began to wonder if her idea was foolishness, perhaps she should just leave the vase on a table somewhere and go to bed which seemed to be where everyone else had gone.

But something inside her felt like she had to make sure he got these flowers, no matter what.

Mustering her courage she lit a candle and began the long walk to the west wing.

She had purposefully never come here, feeling it would be an intrusion so she wasn't entirely sure what the door looked like but hoped she would know it when she saw it. She wandered for what must have been an hour or more checking various rooms, to no avail.

The candle only managed to light her way a few inches before her so she almost rammed the magnificent door head first.

But there it was, it was taller than a house and made of dark wood the gleamed in the candlelight. Taking a deep breath she pushed the door open. It glided open without as much as a squeak. But inside was completely dark.

Moving slowly she felt her way with the little light as her guide. In the middle of the great room stood a bed that towered above her with a dark canopy that looked like the menacing entrance to a cave in the faint light. Edging closer she saw a small table beside the bed and moved to place her gift there.

As she sat down the vase she heard a groan come from the dark cave of drapery. Moving closer she held the candle aloft and saw lying motionless in the bed the haggard form of the prince.

He lay so still that for a moment she feared he might be dead. But she felt a wave of relief when his sad blue eyes opened and looked at her.

 ** _The Prince_**

There she stood before him, bathed in a soft light. His Belle.

The light moved and he caught a glimpse of violet in her eyes and the pain in his chest became almost more than he could bear.

No it wasn't Belle, it was her daughter…..because Belle, his Belle…was dead.

Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked away from her.

 _Oh Belle…my love, you just can't be gone…_

In his mind Belle had remained young, beautiful, and full of love and laughter. She had never grown old, never been tired, had never known a moment of sadness. She had been loved and happy, safe from reality.

But now that wonderful illusion could no longer be, for Belle was dead. He wished nothing more than to join her.

She sat down the candle but he didn't hear the sound of her feet as she left. Turning his head with great difficulty he looked back and saw her much clearer this time standing beside him.

Not Belle, but her daughter, Jacqueline.

She looked afraid, like a dam of emotions was inside her that she was trying desperately to keep at bay.

To his surprise she pulled a chair up and sat down next to him. For a moment he thought she was going to hold his hand but at the last moment she drew her hand back like he might bite her. He felt very disappointed at her reaction.

 _Is she so afraid of me?_

All of a sudden it was Jacqueline who couldn't look at him, her eyes studied the canopy or the candle, until she drug her gaze to something on the table. He followed her gaze and saw an oddly shaped vase stuffed to the brim with roses. Once again tears welled in his eyes as he looked at them. He was so consumed with the sight that he almost didn't hear the small voice that spoke to him.

"I thought you might like to see them, since you can't go look for yourself."

 _That was very kind of you_

He thought, but forgot to say out loud. She was a sweet girl.

After another long pause she spoke again, but this time there was more vulnerable quality to her voice, a small hesitation that hadn't been there before.

"You loved her quite a lot didn't you."

It wasn't a question but he answered her all the same.

"I still do."

Jacqueline nodded her head and looked at her hands.

"I wish I had known her."

 _Oh but you do…_

He was about to tell her but was stopped by the sight of tears rolling down her cheeks. She was so unapt to crying that he doubted she even knew she was crying as she continued to stare at the roses.

"My father didn't want a girl….I was the first you see so that made it all the more disappointing….He got boys eventually, but he never forgave me for being born….I used to want him to notice me more than anything in the world, when he would smile at my brother or pat him on the back I used to pretend it was me…..My mother loved me though. Then she died and...the boys used to joke about selling me off….I would hit them or make some clever remark so they wouldn't know how much it hurt….it hurt to know I wasn't wanted….What I am trying to say is, I understand what it feels like to be surrounded by people but still feel alone. I understand.

Jacqueline stood after that, and turned to go. But a weak low voice called out to her.

"I never wanted boys."

She dropped her hand from the nob and turned to look at him. There was a tired smile on his face and kindness in his sad eyes.

"I always wanted a daughter."


	19. Chapter 18: The Daughter of Belle

**NEW CHAPTER!**

 **PLEASE REVIEW! I THINK THIS CHAPTER IS VERY IMPORTANT AND I REALLY WOULD APPRECIATE THE FEEDBACK!**

 **Thank you all for reading and Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 18: The Daughter of Belle**

 _The Castle Gardens, the Next Day_

Jacqueline walked through the various paths with no particular destination in mind. A happy little smile on her lips as she went humming the tune to some odd little folk song with no name.

She was not a good singer, in fact some might say she was downright horrible, but the trees didn't seem to be taking offense.

It was a lovely day, once again the sun shone bright. Feeling adventurous she walked through the open gate, leaving the castle grounds and entering the forest. Being careful to stick to the path so she wouldn't get lost Jacqueline marveled at the beauty of this frozen paradise.

Snow covered the landscape giving the treetops the appearance of fluffy white clouds, close enough to touch. Glistening icicles clung to the branches, tinkling like chimes in the wind. Everything was so quiet and peaceful, like a lovely dream.

Smiling, she adjusted the bonnet on her head as the wind played with its ribbons. At such a perfect moment with so much beauty and when she felt so happy she never would have expected what happened next.

"Hello _daughter_."

Jacqueline froze where she stood, fear icing its way up her spine at the sound of the familiar voice.

With all the strength she possessed she willed her now leaden feet to move as she turned to face him.

She looked into the cool blue eyes that for so many years had refused to look at her, but now held her captive in their gaze. He was smiling as if the scene before him was the funniest in the world. Resting one arm casually against a tree whilst the other held a firm grip on his rifle.

Trying desperately to calm her beating heart she spoke.

"Hello, father."

Her voice was calm and strong, not portraying the turmoil she felt within for which she was eternally grateful.

Gaston arched an eyebrow as he took in her appearance. Her fine cloak of maroon and her gorgeous dress of peacock blue clearly even to his untrained eye of much finer material then he would ever have been able to afford. Her chestnut locks were piled high in fashionable curls beneath her bonnet, also of maroon with small ribbons blowing in the breeze. His gaze found her face which no longer looked thin and cross as he was accustom to seeing it, but calm and regal with an assured confidence that it hadn't held before.

"Death seems to suit you." He said whilst thoughtfully stroking his jet black beard. Jacqueline knew she hadn't missed the note of contempt in his voice.

She knew he was waiting for her to answer. But suddenly she decided not to and instead waited for him to speak.

 _Let him begin this fight._

Raising her chin in the air with dignity and pride she calmly waited for him to continue, her hands clasped elegantly in front of her as if she were some great Queen awaiting the request of a humble villager.

She saw the anger flash in his eyes at what she knew he would perceive as a lack of respect but she met his gaze with willful determination.

Gritting his teeth he forfeited the first point to her. His smile, like a hungry wolf, still fixed upon his face.

"I suppose you think you're clever? It was a good trick I'll admit, you drowning in the river. And I won't try and hide my annoyance at how easily it deceived my sons. But now the game is up little girl, and you're coming with me."

"No."

"No?" He spat with a bitter laugh.

"I am not going with you."

Gaston's face changed from cruel amusement to hardened anger. Moving with the speed of a skilled hunter he grabbed her by the arm and glared down at her.

"You have humiliated me! Running off like that for no reason and then I find you in the woods dressed like a _princess_! Don't tell me you've added stealing to your list of sins?"

Jacqueline felt his fingers digging into her arm but willed her face to remain calm and collected, looking at him without fear.

"These clothes were given to me to wear by my friend Porcelain." She replied evenly, then narrowing her eyes she allowed some of her righteous anger to escape through her features.

"And I had good reason to leave, I will _not_ be _sold_ off, by you or anyone else!"

He dropped her arm.

"Sold off is that what you think? I was providing you with a future! SECURITY! I was being a good father!"

"He is thrice my age!"

"You need to be married! A husband would have taken your head out of the clouds, made you behave as a woman should. Isn't that what all women desire, a husband and children!?"

"NO! That is what _you_ want! And why him? Did you bet me in a game of chance?"

The slight hesitation in his response made Jacqueline realize the truth in her own question. She felt all the anger go out of her as she began to comprehend how little her father truly cared for her. Their distaste for one another was very evident to both but even she never thought he would think to bet his own daughter in a game of cards.

"You are just like your mother. Belle was always an odd one, she could never be happy, was never satisfied no matter what I did."

Jacqueline's posture became rigid at the mention of her mother.

" _How dare you speak her name!_ " she hissed

Gaston actually took a step back, he had seen her angry many times but never before had he witnessed such intense hate in her eyes. The effect of which was like a bucket of cold water on his own seething rage.

"HOW DARE YOU! YOU KILLED HER!"

Gaston blinked in surprise. "W-What?"

"You think I don't know about Paulette? You think mama didn't know?"

"Now you listen you little…"

"THEY ALL KNOW! THE WHOLE VILLAGE! Didn't you think we would find it odd when Paulette's son looked exactly like the rest of _your_ children? Yet for some reason those ignoramus buffoons still adore you! They still side with you and cast my mother to the side even though-EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS THE KINDEST WOMAN WHO EVER LIVED!"

Gaston's anger was gone, right now he didn't know what to think as her outburst continued bombarding him with a lifetimes worth of pent up anger and rejection on behalf of herself and his wife who could no longer defend her name.

"SHE KNEW YOU FOOL!"

Trying to extinguish the tinge of regret that was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach Gaston made an attempt to redirect his daughter's attentions.

"This isn't about your mother so just leave her out of it. This is about you, and your thoughtless, careless behavior."

"MY BEHAVIOR!"

Jacqueline was so infuriated that she didn't even realize that her hands had clenched into fists, digging her nails into her palms until blood began to trickle down her fingers.

"What did you expect from me? You have ignored me for years, constantly favoring the boys over me. Nothing I ever did was good enough for you. You have never been able to forgive me for being born a girl and in some deranged imaginary way tainting your _good_ name with my existence. You want to leave my mother out of it fine. Then there is just one thing we have left to get clear. _I hate you_ , I hate you for what you did to her, and for what you have done to me."

"I never did anything to you!"

"Who expects a 13 year old girl to take her mother's place? You left us that day by her grave and I had to be the one to take care of my 7 brothers. I had no idea what I was doing! And when you didn't come home we had no choice but to find you, I had to do everything without so much as a thank you."

"You're a woman it was your job!"

"NO IT WASN'T! IT WAS YOUR JOB TO BE A FATHER TO ME!"

"I NEVER WANTED TO BE YOUR FATHER!"

Both stopped yelling and looked at each other, completely drained of all fight. The truth had been spoken, and there was no taking it back. There may be freedom in truth, but there is also some comfort in lies.

Gaston looked at her with absolutely no affection, she was a reminder, a reminder of all he wished to forget…but what was he supposed to do with her.

With a much calmer voice that held no signs of aggression but merely resignation he spoke.

"I never wanted a daughter, you know that. But here you are, so what am I supposed to do with you? You have killed yourself as far as the village is concerned, but you're not dead. And like it or not you are mine, and as a father I have arranged a marriage for you that is proper and fitting. You are coming back with me, you are walking up that isle, saying the vows, and then you will no longer be my burden to bear."

With a soft voice that no longer held any malice for she was too tired to argue anymore she said.

"Don't do this father."

He looked at her and she realized from the confused look in his eyes that he really didn't know what to do. Taking a deep breath she saw her opportunity and offered him his freedom.

"I am dead…you said so yourself, to the village I am dead. What's the harm in allowing them to continue to believe it?"

She saw his curiosity be stirred by his words.

"I don't want to go back, and drag me there as you may I promise I won't ever stop running….You don't want me back either. So let me be….let me be dead so we can both move on."

Gaston's brow furrowed as he thought over her proposition. He waited so long that Jacqueline thought her heart would beat from her chest with anticipation.

"You would have to promise, to _never come back_. You can't ever come back and disrupt our lives again, if you are dead let you stay dead."

Jacqueline nodded her head. "I promise…"

"SWEAR IT! On your mother's grave, _swear it_!"

She paused, he was asking her to do everything short of actually kill herself. She thought of her brothers, she thought of Sef, of the fiddler, the tavern, of her family's graves, and of all their lives going on without her. She really thought about what he was asking her to do, to break all ties with her past, and to leave all traces of her life behind with them.

Solemnly she looked back at him with those gorgeous violet eyes.

"I swear on my mother's grave, that from this day forward the daughter of Belle and Gaston, will be no more."


	20. Chapter 19: Jacqueline

**PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **Chapter 19: Jacqueline**

Jacqueline walked back to the castle in a daze. Her eyes never saw where her feet were going yet somehow they managed to remain on course.

Inside was a torrent mixture of emotions. She felt relief, freedom even, and joyful. Yet she also felt hurt, rejected and angry. It would take years for the full impact of the decision she had just made to hit her, and for her to reconcile her feeling both good and bad on the subject. But right now despite all her excitement at her new found freedom she also couldn't help a slight longing for her former cage.

She was afraid, though she didn't understand it then. She was afraid of the complete unknown and endless possibilities her life now held. She was in control of her destiny, and she was scared.

Horrible as they may have been she had just relinquished any hold on the only family she had ever had. And no one should be alone.

As she saw the Castle come into view her confusion began to lift as she gained a sense of coming home. To someplace safe, to people who cared.

No sooner had she walked into the grand foyer then a smiling Monsieur Lumiere came rushing down the staircase to greet her.

"Mademoiselle Jacqueline, I am so glad you are here!"

"What is it?"

"It's the Master, he is asking for you."

Laying her cloak hastily on a table she began to climb the stairs.

She found him in the drawing room with the chess set. He smiled at her as she entered, the skin around his eyes crinkling and his bushy beard hiding most of his face. He sat in a wheelchair and still looked extremely pale and tired. His hand as always clutching his chest over his heart, and even while sitting his shoulders slumped forward in pain. But he was there and he was waiting to see her.

Jacqueline felt herself being overcome with relief at the sight of him. She hadn't realized until then just how afraid she had been that he might die, and the sight of seeing him sitting there with a loving fatherly smile on her face brought tears to her eyes. Tears that for once she did nothing to try and halt.

Racing across the floor she fell to her knees in front of the wheel chair and hugged him tightly like a little child.

The Prince let out a grunt of pain but using his free arm hugged her as well. Feeling his protective embrace the dam on her emotions burst and Jacqueline's tears flowed freely. Tears for her grandfather, mother, herself, and for the Prince who through cruel fate had been separated from the one he loved. She wept for them all.

He did not push her away, he didn't try to silence her tears, he just held her as the frightened little girl cried.

When at last her tears had ceased he gave her a handkerchief to dry her eyes and once more smiled with fatherly affection.

"Don't be sad Jacqueline, you have everything ahead of you. You will be alright."

For someone who didn't know the cause of her tears he had managed to say exactly the right thing and he knew it from the radiant smile that spread across her beautiful face.

"Now," he said patting her on the shoulder "I have a gift for you."

Curiosity leapt into her purple eyes and the Prince chuckled at her excitement.

"What is it?"

The Prince rang a bell that sat on the table beside the chess set and the door opened. Still kneeling on the floor Jacqueline turned to see who had entered.

In walked a servant carrying a lovely little Cavalier King Charles Spaniel puppy with a large pink ribbon tied around her neck.

The Prince watched her face change from curiosity to astonishment and then excitement. She reached out to take the pup from the servant. The happy little dog immediately began to lick her face and Jacqueline laughed with delight.

"She's for you."

"Really! Is she really mine?"

(Chuckle) "Yes, she's all yours."

"Oh THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!"

Jacqueline happily kissed him on the cheek before cuddling the little dog to her chest. The animal seemed just as taken with its new owner and once again began to assault her face with licks from its tiny pink tongue.

He laughed heartily at the sight but it quickly turned into a cough which wracked his body with pain. Jacqueline looked at him with concern but he waved a hand.

"I-I am alright. (shaky breath) So, what are you going to name her?"

Her brow crinkled as she thought about it.

"I don't know."

"Well why not look through some of the books in the library, you're sure to find something in there."

"I doubt that." She said as she playfully allowed the puppy to chew on her fingers.

He watched her perplexed.

"Why do you say that?"

Jacqueline look up with no trace of shame on her face.

"Because I can't read."

He felt like he had been hit by a ton of bricks.

 _How can the daughter of Belle not know how to read!_

"HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?"

Jacqueline blinked in surprise at his conviction.

"What do you mean, I never learned."

"But what about your mother?"

Now it was Jacqueline's turn to look hopelessly confused.

"She never taught me. Well she tried once, but I suppose she just never got around to it again. I don't understand what the fuss is about. I don't even see the need for it really, I have done just fine so far."

Prince Adam picked up the little bell and rang it furiously until the servant reappeared bowing low with a worried look on his face, clearly he was afraid he had been summoned because the Prince had a relapse. Imagine his surprise to see him instead looking determined with more color in his cheeks then he had seen in years.

"I need you to push my chair. Come Jacqueline we are going to the library."

"Why?"

"I am going to teach you to read."

She walked beside the wheelchair holding the squirming puppy in her arms. The prince gripping his heart, commanding determination in his eyes.

 _Don't worry Belle, I'll teach her, I'll take care of your girl._

For months the two labored over Jacqueline's reading lessons, she was a quick study and soon devoured every scrap of the written world she could get her hands on. The Prince watched with pride as he saw whole new worlds open up before her where she hadn't even realized there had been doors before. Jacqueline may have gained her independence in facing Gaston, but in books she found her freedom.

Unfortunately for the puppy finding a name proved a difficult task for Jacqueline couldn't imagine finding just one name in one story that she favored above all others. That is until one day she pulled a dusty copy of Shakespeare from the shelf and found the beautiful words of Romeo and Juliet. The tragedy of the tale touched her heart and sparked her imagination. So a name had been found at last for her little Spaniel and Juliet seemed quite pleased with her new name, and never happier was the young woman named Jacqueline.


	21. Epilogue

**This is IT!**

 **Thank you EVERYONE for reading and the feedback. I have really enjoyed writing this story and hope you enjoyed it too.**

 **Please Review, I want to know what you think of the end, also should there be a sequel?**

 **Epilogue**

 _The West Wing 3 years later._

" _Where is she?"_ He asked weakly.

"She is coming Master."

The door opened and in walked a woman of unsurpassable beauty. Her chestnut curls hung to her waist, pulled back at the sides and held in place by a small band of silver and amethysts. The mauve of her elegant gown brought out the deep violet of her eyes and her head was held high with self-assured confidence.

She glided gracefully across the floor and sat in the chair across the bed, holding the hand he reached out whilst the other as always clutched the source of his pain, his damaged and broken heart.

"I am here." She said softly her sadness over his pain clearly etched on her face.

He's breath was shallow and his hands were cold but he smiled at the sound of her voice and his light blue eyes saw her clearly.

Gripping her slim hand in his shaking one he gave her his final gift.

" _It has all been arranged…it won't be long now…and I'll be gone._ "

Tears filled her eyes at his words.

"Don't say that, please."

He tried to grip her hand more tightly but his head shook at the foolishness of her request. He was ready for this, he had been ready for a long time.

" _Don't…Don't cry for me…I have left it…all…to you._ "

Jacqueline looked at the man who had been a father to her these last three years and she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"You can't…"

" _It is already done…you…are now Princess of this principality…and I know, you will rule it well._ "

Smiled at her with utter faith in her abilities, and Jacqueline found herself wanting to tell him something. It was something she had discovered many years ago, but had never found the right time to tell him.

Smiling at the old man with all the love and warmth she possessed she began.

"When I was a little girl my mother told me a story…Once upon a time, in the forest, there was a dark castle, were lived a Beast…Who was so kind and good that none feared him… There was a prisoner in the castle, a young girl, whose father was very sick. The Beast had been very kind to her even though she was his prisoner and he didn't have to be. When he learned about the girl's father he let her leave, so she could take care of him."

There was a long silence and Jacqueline saw tears glistening in his weary eyes.

"It was you wasn't it? The story was true all along, you were the Beast, and she was the girl you loved."

He couldn't speak as the tears flowed down his worn cheeks and collected in his once red beard that now shone white as snow. With tears in her own eyes Jacqueline kissed his cheek.

"I want you to know something. She never forgot you, she never forgot. And I know that for the rest of her life, the only man Belle ever loved was you."

For the first time in 28 years he released his pain stricken heart from his grasp, and reached up his hand to touch her face. Wiping her tears away with his thumb.

" _You, are my daughter, and I am so proud of you…I love my girl._ "

"I love you Papa…I love you so much."

With a peaceful smile on his face he laid back against the pillow and closed his eyes, never to open them again.

Letting go of his hand she looked at the table, where the book she had been reading him the day before still lay.

"For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo."

Standing she exited the room. On the other side of the door stood servants, dignitaries, and courtiers, all waiting for her.

She stepped out with the dignity of a Queen and all bowed as she approached. Stopping in the middle of the group she addressed the assembly.

"The Prince is dead."

Once again they all bowed, somewhere among the group she heard the familiar voice of Monsieur Lumiere ring loud and clear.

"LONG LIVE THE PRINCESS!"

"LONG LIVE THE PRINCESS!" They echoed.

A lanky man in black carrying a large book stepped forward and knelt before she gave him the signal to rise.

"Yes Minister Longfellow?"

"Mademoise-Princess Jacqueline, I know now is a time of grief but I am afraid great lady that there is news that cannot wait."

She nodded for him to continue.

"It is the Emperor Napoleon Your Highness, he has broken the peace treaty he forged with your father and now he marches towards our borders intent on conquest!"

All watched her face for signs of reaction. None expected the confident little smile that formed on her lips or the cool strength in her gaze.

"He wants to break his word and trample my people under his foot? Well Minister…..Let him just try!"

He would not win, for she was a pawn no longer, she was a queen.

The End


End file.
